Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Race Day (Hopeless Romantic or Romantic Hopeless)

An all too familiar theme is at work here. Some direct quotes used (with some poetic license of course). The influence hip hop has on me is very visible in this poem as well. Beyond that, I think this poem speaks for itself.


Race Day (Hopeless Romantic or Romantic Hopeless)

(It's safer on the inside.)
Heart lives on the outside.
My heartbeat is my compass, making it too easy to lose track,
But Heart brings me back.
Fact.
Heart filters my view of the world,
But, lately Heart's got me writing poems about girls.
Heart's got his own logic,
His own way. Brain can't use it, he'd look sick.
Maybe that's why Mouth always sounds like he's got nothing to say.
Leaving nothing to black and white, only variants of gray.
Thought I drank the sweetest of juices.
Should've known it was all fittings for all of the tightest nooses.
With every sip I should've had at least a sliver of a hunch
That what I had been drinking was spiked punch.
She has a boyfriend who's name isn't mine.
No action attached to when she said I'm "one of a kind."
I suppose her means justify her ends
When the only way we'll ever be described is "just friends."
Which is all good.
Which is all fine.
Which is all fair.
But, man, she didn't stop there.
"You're the nicest guy," she said. "You'll definitely be a hit!"
But, I'm still on some 'nice guys finish last' shit.
I'd like to say I'm so far behind I think I'm in first place.
Though the truth is, I'm probably not even in the race.
Missed the gun. I'm still in the blocks.
Shyness or insecurity or whatever holding me down like a sack of rocks.
Like "swimmin' with the fishes."
Drowning in the depths of wishes.

(Drowning in wishes, I stay a hopeless romantic, or romantic hopeless, in the deepness of wishes.)