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some old poetry and prose

possibly triggering mental images and some swears

the first one was written almost 10 years ago.

I remember the time my mom told me it was okay to tell a white lie. I was going to a birthday party @ McDonald’s I was maybe about 6 years old. My sister Lisa wasn’t invited, and my mom told her I was going to the dentist.
I remember when I was really little, I wanted to be a monster when I grew up so I wouldn’t have to be scared of anything. I remember in the second grade I thought I was a dinosaur and I remember the book fairs, when my mom would give me some money to buy the books with the little neon stickers on them. I was in line to get my books and this girl ahead of me had tic-tacs and was pretending to be taking drugs…I was all freaked out, but I didn’t tell on her. In fact, I wanted to try. I did karate in the school yard and raced against the boys and I always won. I always loved karate, even though I never took a lesson. From kindergarten ‘til the 3rd grade, I wanted to be Chinese. I ate rice cakes and other rice meals, I wore Chinese clothes and shoes and was fascinated by their houses, culture, language, art….and panda bears. There was a brief period in the second grade where I wanted to be Ethiopian, but then I decided I just wanted to go there and save the children.
...
I remember I wanted to be like a squirrel, so I could walk on telephone wires and fence tops. One time I did walk right across a fence top. An un-sturdy, practically broken fence, and I knew I was defying gravity, but no one was there to see me. one time I was talking to a bird, a robin, I think, and it let me pick it up. I held it for a minute, but when the train came by, it flew away. I told my mom about it, but I don’t think she believed me. I asked her to teach me how to whistle, but she said she didn’t know how. She was making pancakes. I can whistle now, you know, but I doubt if I’ll ever be able to get a wild bird to sit on my fingers, besides, I’d be too afraid to get some disease or be bitten.
I used to make forts with the tables and chairs, and bushes, and I would hide for hours, listening to everything that went on inside my gentle head.
Once, I was in my sister’s room playing with my care bears, and someone shot a BB gun pellet right through the window. It just missed me. from that day, until the day we moved, I would sit by the window and have conversations with my friend mark who wasn’t really there.
I had glow worms and rubber toys with finger holes in the bottom that always smelled like candy. I played with paper dolls and made beds for my Barbies with my blankey, which I would never sleep without. I still have that blanket, but I wouldn’t really call it a blanket now, more like cotton and thread. I still need a special blanket for me to fall asleep.
I never wanted to grow up, I always wanted to stay a little kid, cuz being a little kid was fun, and I could watch strawberry shortcake movies, sesame street, the last unicorn and the never ending story. I could suck my thumb or dream of becoming a famous magician who works at ground round restaurants or the theatre in the green. I could read my shel silverstein books and forget to get off at my bus stop, and it would be okay if I made a mistake because I was still learning the lessons of life. But here I am, grown, and all I have are old photos and fragmented memories.
------------------------------
i dont know when i wrote this...

tech
no
i don't go
in
to
that lite
the briight
fight
i might
be
so
t i g h t
never
forget
that
one
nite.
The screams
the bite
who
was right?
i might
never
see
that light.
-------------------------
this is a couple years old.

YOU DONT FOOL ME
I’m not normal and i’m not the same…when i think something sucks i don’t call it lame.
i don’t call people retards, that just ain’t my game. Making fun of others won’t pave my way to fame. I’m insane and not cuz i think it’s cool to claim. I got a long list of diagnoses and been places that attempt to tame the brain damage of those of us who came too late--or too soon…. We’re just awkward dudes like Benny and Joon, people givin’ us nicknames like “Jymi the Loon”- tellin’ us to go back to the moon cuz they just can’t understand why we don’t play the hand that we were dealt. But if only they knew what if felt like to have a couple of twos, a three and a five,…a daily battle to try and survive--- a place where we just don’t fit in, and when the day begins at high noon, we’re still lyin’ in bed just wishin’ we were dead …instead of the pain we endure with everybody slammin’ the door in our face every day cuz we’re different, we’re gay. People say that we’re ugly or fat or see us chat to invisible men, who just may or may not exist- but that’s not for you to say, just cuz you don’t see it, don’t mean it’s not there. Scientific explanation’s not usually fair to those of us who dare to do what we need to do, unlike some of you we choose love over greed, takin’ only what we need out of life…a pair of clean jeans, a pocket knife some good music and a wife. I don’t ask for much, but some say i do just cuz they’re not used to people like me who will be exactly who we are- I’ll drive an old car just as long as it gets me as far as i need to go. I’ll take it slow and tiptoe. I’ve been patient. I’ve even been IN-patient at the local ER for twelve hours just to find out they wanna send me home to where i’ll be alone, they’ll called on the phone they say, every hospital in town and all the other towns around, and nobody’s got beds, so i shiver in the gown they forced me to wear the moment i got there cuz God forbid i had a razor in my pocket or a sharp piece of metal to stick in a light socket…all this stupid bullshit they dream up so they can come up with a plan to strip me of my comfort and have me sit there, shaking and scared, just scratching my beard til eventually i feel so weird that i run out of tears. The doctor comes in sayin’ “Jym, you’ll be fine, these nurses of mine have watched you for a bit, you didn’t throw a fit and you’re no danger so you are fit to go. Just take it slow. Don’t snort blow, be careful drivin’ in the snow. Go to church, don’t be a ho. Obey the law or you may end up on death row- learn how to sew, wear dresses, smile pretty and whadaya know? Pretty soon you’ll be all better, you’ll be writing love letters and knitting winter sweaters. You’ll be happy, you’ll be fixed, you’ll be dancing with chicks and looking at dicks instead of wishin’ you had one one, thinking you’re a son and not a daughter, not much in life is odder than a person confused about the body they use and have used for years. I’m sick of you Queers comin’ in here complaining people stare when you share a kiss with your lovers, Go home! Go indoors and under your covers if that’s what you’re gonna do, I’m discharging you!
There are people who deserve a bed more than you. These people can afford to pay room and board, and praise the only Lord. They don’t question the rules cuz the rules were made for them, normal white men, not weirdo’s like you. Goodbye now, I’ll have my nurse give you back your shoes.
You can go home, turn on your TV, watch some shows and learn to be a rose, not a thorn. Stop blowing your horn. It makes too much noise, You’ll wake up the boys- the boys who need to rest to become the best this world has ever seen, Republicans, not green, Hell Yeah! They’ll be mean, beating women till they’re lean, Fuckin’ with the minds of pre-teens till everyone believes what we say. You believe me, right KERI?
Go home, you’ll be fine. I’ll drop you a line to make sure you’re doing good… stay out of the hood. The people there bite. You’re lucky you’re white. If you weren’t you just might not survive and stay alive. You just need a little strive.
Hey nurse, KERI’s ready, SHE’s stable and steady.
“Umm, no” I explain, lookin’ out the window as it rains.
“If there’s an emergency just call us” they lie and try to assure me that it’ll all be okay. But i just spent my whole day on this emergency call, and i was sent away, so i walk down the hall into the day...or night whatever time it might be, i dunno, i’m CRAZY cuz i’ve done this more than once. I must be a dunce to put myself through it, but there’s really nothing to it. I’m used to being told i’m not wanted- wherever i go, i seem to be haunted by the same few words…
“you’re not like us”
“go away”… “stop making such a fuss”
But i won’t stop until somebody stops me, and even then i’ll keep going
like the energizer bunny, not cuz it’s cliché and unfunny, but because i’m really here,
I wanna live my life without the fear of being hurt for who i am. If i say that i’m a man, don’t call me ma’am. I wanna be respected,
not hunted down and inspected cuz some assholes detected that i was different than they were. I do not deserve murder cuz you decide i’m a her or a she who just wants to be a he .
Brandon Teena was like me and many others… all sisters and brothers. So much the same, with so many names and so many shames from playing their games.
But i won’t anymore. I live to restore everything that i broke,
people i hurt when i spoke out of my ass, when i thought all i was doing was making a joke…before i awoke from the haze of my last toke when i was using. Sometimes i'm using, sometimes i'm not. Right now i am, I smoke my pot like a ham.
I’m not perfect, i admit it. I fuck up all the time. When i walk in the park
i’m tempted by the guy selling drugs by the dime. I just wanna buy the drugs and escape this ugly place, but my job is to live the best that i can and i will face the future with you if you’re willing to do what i do and be true to what you knew when you were two, before they had you caring bout the brands you were wearing.
before they had you hearing only the news they were sharing,
sitting on your couch, eating Olestra and fearing what will happen if you don’t buy their bullshit, but you think that it’s real, cuz you’re brainwashed and feel like you’ll never be as good as they want you to be. You join their Army’s to be all you can be but you already were and they fooled you but they WON’T FOOL ME
----------------------------

this is about 10 years old

YOU TOOK AWAY MY YOUTH, AND
AT THE TIME I WAS IMPRESSED
YOU SHOWED ME YOUR TRUTH
AND LEFT A SOUL DEPRESSED

NOW YOU'RE IN THE NEWS
OR IS IT YOU ON THE PHONE?
I HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE
AND YOU WANT ME ALONE

I FEAR THE SOUND OF YOUR VOICE
EVERY TIME THE PHONE RINGS
BUT I HAVE NO CHIOCE
BUT TO IGNORE THESE THINGS

YOU'RE ON THE OTHER END
IN SOME PSYCHOTIC FRAME OF MIND
AND IT'S TOO LATE TO MEND
THE CHILD YOU LEFT BEHIND
-------------------------

i wrote this last year about a night long ago


It's a cool summer night. Late August 1991. I've been swimming in the pool for a couple of hours, dodging the swooping bats and mosqitos. I hear crickets chirp unseperate to the volume of my double decked boom box. I pull myself up onto the cement and I am startled by a giant June bug. I tiptoe over to a beach chair where my beer logoed towel is lying in a heap. I shake it off and then wrap it around myself, thinking about the next beer I'M going to drink.
Suspiciously, i walk indoors and head straight up to my room. I lock the door behind me and open my pin-up covered closet door. I dig through some boxes until i find an old t-shirt wrapped around a pint of Spearmint Snapps, hiding it from my mother or anyone else who might go snooping through my closet. I put the bottle between my towel and my body, and I head into the hall bathroom.
Once the door is securely locked, I run some water in the sink to cover any noise that the bottle might make as i open it. Once it is open, I gulp down the minty pint and feel it burn in my throat. Although it hurts and tastes like I am drinking Listereen, it comforts me in a way that nothing else in the world does.
When I finish the pint, i run hot water in the tub, rinse out the bottle and climb into a steaming hot shower. I oversoap myself to try to cover up the smell, and when I get out of the shower i brush my teeth severely.
Returning to my room, I keep the bottle hidden again. My mother is coming up the stairs as I pass them and she asked what I'm up to. "Nothing" I tell her calmly as I can, and add, "I'm just goona listen to some music and try to write." She looks at me with question in her eyes, but she never asks the question, so I slip safely into my room and lock the door behind again.
I open my sock drawer immidiately after locking the door and set the empty bottle into it where i hope it will go unnoticed until I can dispose of it later. I close the drawer and press the power button on my dusty black stereo. The radio is set to 107.3, and Liz Wild the Cream Cheese Bitch DJ is counting down the top nine at nine.
I throw a giant red Mickey Mouse shirt over my body, quietly open my bedroom window, and climb out onto my roof. From there I watch across the yard where I see my elderly neighbors inside their house, flipping through the channels on their TV. Further behind my house I can hear my teenaged neighbors throwing a summer kegger and their radio is blasting the same station as mine, creating an interesting stereo like sound.
I reach back into my room, for the little jewlery box where I keep 3 cigarettes lined up in a row. I take one and light it with a wooden match. With my other hand I reach in and grab my Swatch Twin Phone to dial a 900 chat number. I put the phone to my ear and listen to strangers talk to one another, looking up at the stars and enjoying one of the last great nights of the summer, before school starts back up. All that is left of the summer is a trip to Marshalls for back to school clothes and CVS for notebooks, pens and planners I never use. I know that the 8th grade is important academically, so I tell myself I'll try to quit drinking and do my homework. Maybe I'll even join a sports team. I look back up at the stars as I blow out the last drag off my stolen cigarette, and for one of the last times ever, I really believe that change is possible, and that will-power is real.
--------

this was written a little over a year ago

OUTSIDE

i like siting on the floor
but even more do i love
sitting on the outdoor ground
whether it be the driveway
looking at the stars
and feeling the excitement of:
Will they see us kissing?
Can they hear us swearing?
Can they see us smoking?

i like sitting on the lawn
watching the bugs move a blade of grass.
I recall the excitement of bringing our indoor toys out,
adding worlds of oppertunity for us to explore.
I like to see listen to the birds and
watch the squirrils play a game of chase.

I like to sit on my old roof and stare at the stars
and breathe in the night air.
There's comfort between myself and the shingles.
and it makes me feel like i've made it to freedom.

i like to sit on the beach and stick my hand in the sand
and let my hand feel the heat from the sun beating down.

I had a sandbox growing up but i didn't spend much time in it.
Often we just buried our stuff there.
I think i felt bad for the sand like i had been keeping it prisnor.
I thought it belonged back at the beach
where it could be happy and roam free.
My mom said the sand was not to leave the sandbox.
(and if one of us told on another one of us,
we would be punished for dumping the sand.

I like to sit on the grass in my backyard
because it reminds me of the days
when my backyard held all the gold in the world.
I did not need anything that my backyard
wouldn't hold.
Family Cook-outs
Practicing dancing to Paula Abdual and Debbie Gibson
so we could be on star search,
Phil Collins Pool Parties
baseball, kickball, vollyball and catch
suntanning
bocci ball, tv tag, hide and go seek
rolling down hills
nights of capture the flag
building forts in "the woods"
the circle of rocks we called the church
and all the wishing and praying that went on there.
Looking for toads
Looking for Spit Bugs
Looking for an important piece to a boardgame that someone else wants to play and you took it outside to play war with.
We picked flowers
We had cannonball splash contests off the diving board in the summer
and invented all sorts of games like
Swimming Pool Air Hockey
Midnight Murderer Run
Super Backyard Mario Brothers
and millions of others that probably never got names.
One summer we created a neighborhood carnival
with games to play that were mostly
about knocking toys off the clothesline that were pinned there
with a clothespin.
We charged 25 cents per person.
In the winter we went sledding down the little hills.
We made pathes around snowpiles
and ate the snow.
We sang,
We took pictures.
We set off illigal fireworks
(well, mostly just Uncle Ricky did)
We hid behind bushes when it was time to come in at night
and then we would beg to stay out later.
Sometimes my mom would give in and say:
"okay, just a little bit, but stay in the backyard"
and we would run back out there
to celebrate our freedom.

My backyard has held happiness in recent years as well.
There have been graduation parties
birthday parties,
house parties and general entertainment.
Even my wedding was in that yard.

i'm sad i won't have this house to come to anymore, but new memories will be made in new places.
----------------------


i wrote this about 7 years ago after reading that "cutting" was now considered a new fad, which really bothered me... it also bothers me that eating disorders are a fad, or heroine... cuz they are very real problems, and people who suffer from this stuff dont need it becoming a fad, because then it makes it a million times harder to seek out help.

"cut's like a knife"
they say
don't need to be a knife
she says
a needle or a
safety pin
will do the trick
cut
cut
cut
'til she can see
the blood
reach the surface
usually,
her upper arm
will do the trick
nobody ever looks there.
Been doin' it
since she was nine
god, time flies
can't
stop
an addiction like this one
quit drugs,
drinking
and cigarettes
can't seem
to let this one go.
pain
takes away
pain
unable to identify
emotions...
emotional pain
this,
she can feel
this,
she knows is true.
that's all she can do
it's nothing new
----------------------------

this one is a little over a year old, and is the last for tonight.

INSTRUCTIONS ON LIFE

What if i said all i had to say-in invisible ink?
my mind is that ink and you make me think i am trippin'.
Reality now is a little pink cow with wings of a foul
who can't use them anyway. Can't fly. CAN die. What's your
excuse? What's your lie? You spry? Wanna fry? I got green
in my tin, so let us begin getting high. Wave to passers by.
Tell em "we ain't gonna die". Layne Staley told us told us
that 'fore HE died. Shot up dope in his arm- Got sent to
the funny farm. Said it'd be no harm. That alone is alarm.
Now you know you are right, gotta put up the fight.
Don't let them win out of spite. They just might, but we bite.
As a team we fight- short with no height.
Try as i might, with the help of a kite we fly on.
Crazy as fuck- no luck. Low on the buck.
Always feel stuck. Bored- you snored.
Pay what you can afford-
That means more now that i'm not a greedy cow.
I don't need everything NOW NOW NOW!
although i'm still a bit impatiant...
Don't know how or when i grew up and learned who i was-
I caught the buzz- I get life.
We do what we do cuz it's all we can- feel guilt
for what we can't. But i rant, and that's cool
I drool. Hardly made it through high school.
People there treated me cruel. And i've been cruel too.
Learned my lesson long ago. Now i know what i know
I am what i am.--- imperfect and real.
I'm not something to steal- but not to let go.
Go slow- be stubborn like Do. Live long-
stick it through. Be what's true. Sacrifice
Aunt Genie's shoe. Red, purple or blue. Eat Buffalo Stew
---when it's offered to you. Live how you can.
Play bass licks with L7 fans.
You only live once- and kharma is real.
You lose what you steal. You help who you heal.
You love what you feel. See what you see-
Taste all the pleasures and illigal treasures-
Take real desperate measures. Make time for leisures...
Feed your brain. Be insane. Dance when you're in pain.
Don't be like Layne and don't be like Kurt
Write songs like Trent Reznor's "Hurt".
Doesn't go away, but relief does exist.
The rest can be numbed. Sexed up and cummed.
Gambled away- Here to stay- come out as gay
Direct your first play. Put butts in ash trays.
Wear Mary Kay. Get yourself laid.
Earn a grade A. Buy shit off e-bay.
Sculp with clay-- Think of Lorraine Day.
Say "hey" to Aunt Fay. Wear too much grey.
Look for needles in hay. Name your kid Jay,
or Kay or Jaime.
Do something for pay- then for free. Who will you be?
Think about love
Pray every day, or never, or just once a year,
so long as it's sincere.
Relay what you wanna say. Say what you can.
Don't dwell on can't. Live for today.
Obey what you want if it feels okay.
That's my way- i spit so many rhymes
fast as i can- Be a man with a tan
who likes Steely Dan fans.
Gay, bi or trans. No plans--
too many plans can put you in a trance.
Unable to dance. No buts or ands.
Ride Sped busses or vans.
Clap hands. Read books that were banned.
Bang pots and pans, cans, metal fans,
The Ku Klux Klan should kill their own.
Hang up the phone. Smoke a bone.
I did. Even though you forbid me that plant.
And a liver trans-plant.
No insurance for AIDS if you got medicaid.
Can't afford a Rolaid.
You wear braids- get laid by Janead.
I live near where i hear my soul. - I live life whole.
I've abused drugs- then quit. Had nic fits.
Grabbed a tit- got lit. Drank a beer like Mich.
I've been horney and nasty-
I kick all negativity out with a stick.
Make love with a chick- or do it dick to dick.
Hump a brick, stick or prick. Turn tricks.
Enjoy it now with no complaints
they may call you insane and put you in restraints.
Be inane anyway- don't play what they tell you to play
and waste your life day to day.
Let yourself loose while you can or live to regret
that you chose to reject the fun.
You think your too cool for puns but you carry a gun
to protect your your ass from thugs on the run.
You sit in your office cubicle while your head is a haunt
with 36 fonts, thinking of wants-
wasting away- forgetting today. Forgetting about now,
tomorrow is when, yesterday's then.
Please get a pen and write this down in case i don't
say it again--- the time that you spend,
just wishing things were not what they are
is time you will never get back,
So pack your bags fag hags,
Rip off your tags, and create your own brand.
Do a handstand, start a band
and get the word out-
And now i'm out- it's your turn- Peace.
------------

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Comments

( 7 comments — Leave a comment )
ohemgabbyx3
Jul. 23rd, 2007 07:28 am (UTC)
the first thing you have written reminds me of the journal entries you find in books, its really descriptive.. but not so much so that you cant place your own images to it.

you really do have a way with writing.
i wish I was that good.

haha.. now ill have to find some of that shit. lmfao
ohemgabbyx3
Jul. 23rd, 2007 07:39 am (UTC)
here this is alot easier.
if the link doesnt work let me know.

http://allpoetry.com/untamed_melody
djcliche
Jul. 23rd, 2007 05:41 pm (UTC)
cool
djcliche
Jul. 23rd, 2007 05:39 pm (UTC)
thank you
ohemgabbyx3
Jul. 23rd, 2007 07:46 pm (UTC)
no problem.
feanix
Jul. 24th, 2007 09:34 am (UTC)
man, i love the way you write...especially the stream of consciousness stuff...the first part feels really comfortable to me. especially the bit about the bird.
djcliche
Jul. 24th, 2007 05:58 pm (UTC)
i'm glad you like it. yeah, the first one is comforting. it really is. i know what you mean. i think i was having a nightmare and woke up in the middle of a night and wrote it to help me get back to sleep.
peace.
( 7 comments — Leave a comment )

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