07/16/2013

I decided to start writing more creatively when inspiration strikes. It did yesterday.

 

This was written before I had the afternoon off for the tornado watch.

 

Sleep

eludes me

the burning embers of fatigue

singe my synapses

another memory

burns into my daydreams

elusive relapses of willpower

vivid yellow blossoms

burn into my vision

as I watch the fuzzy bumblebees

in their pollen collision

These are a few that I wrote today.

It is morning and my car windshield is dewy with moisture. I wash it away with the wipers. My mind is a blank slate. The morning traffic executes focus to my thoughts as I drive.

I arrive at the building which is nonchalantly plain. The parking lot is a party spot for whatever reason. I have arrived on Monday mornings to find unwelcome reminders of this. Used condoms/wrappers empty alcohol bottles coffee cups and food wrappers. A remnant of enjoyment passed.

I unlock the back door of the building with my key. I peer into the darkness that enshrouds the long hallway. The exit sign at the end of the hall bleeds red neon light to combat the darkness. Then at the end of the door through a window on the door I see a black figure.

I close my eyes and open them again. I reach over to flip on the light switch. And I coax my feet into moving forward. The light makes the figure bloom into a recognizable shape. It is someone else who works in the building. Relief washes over me. like rain on a sweltering day. and laughter explodes from me

He is forbidden

I don’t think he even has thoughts of me

until I am right there in front of him

even then I am just a presence

someone to make smalltalk with

I don’t feel that electricity coming from him

when I am in the same room as him

after that though unwanted thoughts linger in my mind

then one night when I least expected it

he crept into my dream

he embraced me and I responded

or was I the first to reach out to him?

There was heat in the intensity

I was thrilled and wanted him so much

yet even in the dream

it felt good but so wrong

I think he was the first to acknowledge that

he let go of me and said something

what I can’t recall

it felt so real after I woke up

what if he can tell, the next time I see him?

that my thoughts on some level

are not purely platonic?

And here is one ridiculous poem about my lunch being stolen today.

My lunch, so bland

no-name lasagna

in a canary yellow box

It went missing!

I search the freezers at work

with a vigilant laser beam gaze

MY LUNCH IS GONE!

it was last seen yesterday

before the tornado watch

Perhaps a funnel cloud

stealthed under the door of the building

intent on feasting on

generic noodles, ground beef and sauce

or perhaps it was a homeless person who wandered into the building

they hadn’t eaten for days

they spied the brightness of the box

and it was salvation for their stomach

GOOD_BYE LASAGNA!

so I nickle & dimed it and wandered over to 711

I chose a roast beef, spinach & blue cheese on marble rye

and it required a companion

a diet pepsi called to me enticingly

from behind the glass case

I counted out my change

pennance to to the stolen  lasagna