Local Wanderer | Short Poem No. 26

The local wanderer.

My body sits at my desk

but my brain. . .nope.

My eyes scan the screen

but my mind won’t cope.

My fingers type away

while my mind packs its bags.

My foot taps the desk

as my mind drags.

local wanderer

I’m the landlocked pirate

who watches the wind blow through the trees;

the marooned sailor who has

never crossed the seas.

I haven’t freed my sails to

fly in the ocean breeze.

I’ve never conquered the world

and lived at ease.

No, I just sit here and tap my pen away,

looking at this stack of papers.

I lean back, stretch,

blink my eyes a few times,

and move on to the next thing.

Photo by Guilherme Stecanella on Unsplash.

If you like this poem, check out “Yesteryear’s Yore” by Ckonfab, as well as my own post “Guys Like Me (Loser Lyrics).”

© Joey Blue and thepoetryaboutus.com, 2018. All rights reserved.

Regrets of the Dying | Short Poem No. 25

These are the regrets of the dying

(don’t let it be you):

I’ve got this heart of gold.

I’ve got this heart that’s cold.

And it’s been getting old (numb).

But anyways,

I press on, on,

on and on,

I press on, on

but not getting done.

When will I stop?

It’s cold and numb

but I press on. on,

on and on.

regrets of the dying

And it’s more, more,

but my eyes are sealed,

It’s more, more

(It’s not yet real).

And I’ll break, break

this heart of glass.

And I’ll break, break

this heart of glass.

And I’ll break, break

this heart of glass.

until regrets are the

only things that last.

Photo by Echo Grid on Unsplash.

If you like this post, check out another great post about regret, “Regrets & Remorse” from Words and Music and Stories, as well as my own post “Cirque du Soleil Crystal.”

© Joey Blue and thepoetryaboutus.com, 2018. All rights reserved.

How Much Sleep Should I Get? | Short Poem 24

How much sleep should I get?

I’m not sure.

But I’m stuck here

between a minute and eternity,

dancing with the clock,

listening to the tick-tock

tick-tock.

I’m cold

but I’m hot.

Now I hear the sound of

trucks driving by.

I wonder what time they woke up

tonight.

(Why do they think it’s OK to

make so much noise?)

how much sleep should I get

A soft glow fills the room

from my window.

These dark lights are also too bright.

My heart rate is high (and low).

I’m unsure

if time is passing

or if it’s standing still.

The sound of nothing is so loud

and air taps on my window sill

(and circuses fill my head).

My mind does acrobats

and covers the universe

as I wonder. . .

I wonder,

“How much sleep should I get?”

Photo by Cris Saur on Unsplash.

If you like this post, check out “Insomnia” from My Wall, as well as my own post “Daydreaming.”

© Joey Blue and thepoetryaboutus.com, 2018. All rights reserved.

Epic Friends | Short Poem No. 23

Dedicated to all of the epic friends out there.

I’m waiting for you.

Where are you guys?

I’m here without you but

you should be with me.

We want to let the good times begin

because our lives are running thin.

The evening sun is setting

but we won’t let our lives set with it.

Epic Friends

So get up, get out, come here, 

we are waiting for you.

The evening breeze is sweet

but my girl is even sweeter.

The sun is setting

and our minds’ forgetting

all the cares that we held on to

before we came here.

The sun is setting,

but we’re just beginning.

Even when we’re gone

our memories will stay.

Photo by Tyler Nix on Unsplash.

If you like this post, check out “You’re a Good Friend” by Kait King, as well as my own post “Love Ride or Die.”

© Joey Blue and thepoetryaboutus.com, 2018. All rights reserved.

The New Kid Poem (Five Minutes) | Short Poem 22

This is the new kid poem.

Because I’m the “new kid.”

But I don’t want to be.

I don’t even want to be here,

but I am.

(Just five more minutes.)

The clock is so slow.

I should have stayed home.

(Why did I even go?)

There they say again,

“There’s a new kid.”

Yep, I’m him, standing against the wall

hoping to blend in.

the new kid poem, best, blog, writing, poem, poems, poetry, life

I don’t want to be noticed.

(I don’t want your special attention.)

I’d die for just some friends to stand with

(somewhere to belong).

But it’s overly obvious.

(I don’t belong.)

I just stare at the clock.

(How can five minutes take so long?)

I’m the new kid.

But I don’t want to be.

I don’t even want to be here.

(But, I still am.)

Photo by Owen CL on Unsplash.

If you like this poem, check out “Be Ready to Accept Changes in Life” by Manisha Reddy, as well as my own poem “Don’t Quit.”

© Joey Blue and thepoetryaboutus.com, 2018. All rights reserved.

Hurricane Path Map | Short Poem No. 21

Show me the hurricane path map.

This is my stage

to show you to the world,

But I have to engage

as I feel your blood.

pumping through my blood;

Your spirit in filling me.

Now, I take on this hurricane.

My soul takes over what I see,

blocking out the thoughts

that my mind wants to devour,

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Now, You’re strength gives me the power

so that I can do anything.

This spiritual adrenaline overwhelms

my usual, timid self,

as rain pelts my face in volumes,

as my body gets heavy

drenched with water and sweat.

I can barely hold my ground

as the winds screams with threats

and with power.

But in the same moment

my feet feel secure

and unshaken in the torment.

hurricane path map

Because this is where I belong,

here in this time

to win

by your design.

And this hurricane didn’t choose me

as I stand in its path.

I chose it

and I’m filled with holy wrath.

Yes, I chose it and

I’m filled with a holy wrath.

Then, for a second, I pause.

In the eye of the storm,

fall to my knees.

and remember where I come from.

Getting up,

I brace for the next round

as this hurriance comes back,

gusts howling in their thrust,

hail scratching at my face

with a hateful disgust.

And the torrents squeeze out

my last breathe

but, from my heart

I growled these words next,

“Though I walk through

the valley of the shadow.of death,

I fear no evil

for You are with me.”

Photo by Anh Nguyen on Unsplash.

If you like this post, check out a major inspiration for it, Psalm 23. Also check out my poem “Raw Story.”

© Joey Blue and thepoetryaboutus.com, 2018. All rights reserved.