envy

the hats I once wore

bernardsbarnes Poetry , , , , ,

see the people, watch them
wearing the hats and suits and jewelry that you wore once
and wish you could don again even if only for a night

see all the different faces you could make and varied words
you could picture uttering from your mouth

long for a myriad of realities that are not yours
but could have been

see, look, watch, long, envy
and accept your world as your own
yours is the world of many faces
worn in secret, in moments of experiment

see them all as failed trials
of paths sought after then abandoned
as false fulfillment

envy no more
you are yourself
beautiful and radiant and true
embrace that empty vessel
you

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struggle and envy

bernardsbarnes Poetry , , , ,

she tells me:
I don’t know how you do it
after a few shots of heavy stuff
I don’t know how you handle it

well,
I don’t know how YOU do it
every day, no help or buffer
no aid in numbing the pain

to me
you are the stronger person
do not envy me

I, martyr

bernardsbarnes Poetry , , , , ,

a bad case of martyrdom
Jesus Christ fever
do it to myself every time
take it all, take it on
refuse anyone’s help
shrug it off, wave them away
leave me be, I’ll be fine
don’t need a soul
got it covered
fuck off
really could use a hand
damned if I’ll ever ask
as though I’m convinced the harder the road to walk
greater will be the reward once end is reached
as though every favour I owe another for aide given
is a deficit on a karmic scorecard
and every favour done will somehow pay
for some sin as yet uncommitted

i’m sorry

bernardsbarnes Poetry , , , ,

sorry to disturb you
but I believe I am in love
I hate to take you away from your complicated life
and your shiny new home
and your yard and your ring
and that boy that you call a husband
and that job you claim to hate
I’m sorry but
I am in love
can you see it in my face?
Can you read it in my eyes?
Are you paying any attention at all?
Then maybe you aren’t
the friend
that I thought you were
who needs you
anyways

a pleasant reunion

bernardsbarnes Poetry , , , , , ,

I believe if some people back home
were to see a stranger on the street
suddenly materialize as me
they’d spew green vomit on the sidewalk
my only wish is that I’d have a pot
to catch that puke and cook it up
and eat another day
with belly full and happy then
I’d smile wide and thank them
for not spewing their rich foods all over me

oh, I can’t wait to meet the kids back home
and see just where they’ve been
’cause I guarantee I’m a lot damn happier
not being one of them