New Morning

Tue, 02/07/2012 - 17:44 -- poet

By Bea
New morning trying to get to that point
that point worth getting to where the words flow like heavy
tears wrung out like water from a new sponge
when ever I hear that song, why is that song so sad?
trying the grab grip grasp traces of truth left in fragmented past to find out
what made sense and why it doesn’t any more.
I turn to blue but he doesn’t care to cross over into my insane universal thoughts
so we batter shatter proof Plexiglas
stunned on lookers look past our seemingly strong feelings for one another
and label it an odd match
why would such a smart, friendly eloquent young lady spend time with such a
hot tempered mumbling manual labour man?
Answer: he’s good with his hands.
He fixes appliances and meals for me in his wife beater,
muscles in his arms and back and focus on his lips its his form of genius.
Occasionally he gets worked up over drama that originally seemed pretty petty to me
but its everything to him so I tried to understand that
force-fit myself into his shoes even though he never as much a glances at mine
I was told it was a matter of highway’s a dirt roads, the way our minds work
complex female and simplifying men
my thoughts at inner state pace on the inter state rating the space we find separating us
his thoughts move slow, a little bumpy, indirect, but he get to where he going without asking for directions so his mantra is if he loses me, if he’s lost fuck it, he’s going to get where he’s going eventually so we crash constantly silent bouts of misunderstanding.
I nonchalantly eye the sign that says exit but don’t take it
navigating each other through confused caress, hard gaze, over night stays
dirty talk is constantly on repeat to drown out all the voices telling us
this won’t work,this won’t work
the pandemonium of passion producing over embellished moles, please distract me from you with yourself cause all this is over too soon and you’re out my door left me to empathize with empty condom wrappers.
Its a new morning and I’m trying to get to that point, that point worth making.



This strong poem does a good job of describing what goes through someone's mind when they reach an impasse in a relationship. My favorite line of the poem is "I nonchalantly eye the sign that says exit but don't take it" because this line appears to sum up the frustration and anxiety that is present throughout the poem.

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