2/24/12

WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE Chris Webber WAS STILL A PLANET

was i dumbed for berry hands
shaking puppy dog dry

my juicy pulp when you bite
is only a mixture of other tasteless things

log my trunk rings into song
sped up much faster to a whistle

i stopped growing several years ago
but i still change size

in and
out of my skull

swelling under snow soak
my teeth bones jiggle loose in melt

i slimy or i can always do more
i ooze and keep secrets of mutation

call my brain a wet hound
then sniff and sniff and sniff

your glass eye meets my tongue
i said i would swallow darkness

i said i would remove my jaw
to fit your head safely inside me

why am i still smelling vanilla
body spray or when will you erase

my life is a tree full of fruit
and sometimes it has no fruit

i was not ready and i am scared
that all the buildings i have been in

will be torn down before i die
it's nothing right

it's nothing to read about Buddha preaching
it's nothing to be afraid of nothing

or i am everything
or there is a void inside of my head

is why i am really making an effort
to stop calling zeros os

and to think having anything is only nothing
and hope or terror or the next day

with a great big moon on my face
i poem
i listen
i will breathe and then not breathe
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8 comments:

  1. PHCFebruary 24, 2012 at 4:32 PM

    first of all

    excellent title

    ReplyDelete
  2. kFebruary 24, 2012 at 5:21 PM

    not enough sex, Justin. much much more sex.

    ReplyDelete
  3. JoelFebruary 24, 2012 at 10:40 PM

    This poem has me thinking about empty lacking.
    Dialogue with a crowd.
    All the forgotten tomorrow.

    Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  4. sarsFebruary 25, 2012 at 1:42 AM

    i have the same building fear ALWAYS

    good 1st cutlass

    ReplyDelete
  5. AnonymousFebruary 29, 2012 at 3:41 PM

    was i dumbed for berry hands
    a juicy pulp for you to bite

    so love like a loyal dog
    staring at my blank air

    i stopped growling several years ago
    but my voice still changes size

    in and
    out of my body

    i can melt for hours
    like snow or stoned faces

    call my brain a wet hound
    then sniff and sniff and sniff

    call my face slimy or foul
    your tongue can make my eyes glass

    i said i would swallow darkness
    i said i would remove my jaw

    to fit your head safely inside me
    is spending forever in my mouth

    why am i still smelling vanilla
    body spray or when will you erase

    my life is a tree full of fruit
    and sometimes it has no fruit

    i was not ready and i am scared
    of all the people i have loved

    will be torn down before i die
    it's nothing right

    it's nothing to be afraid of nothing
    or to spend a long time feeling unwell

    is why i am really making an effort
    to stop calling zeros os

    and to think having anything is only nothing
    and hope or terror or the next day

    with a great big moon on my face
    i poem
    i listen
    i will breathe and then not breathe

    ReplyDelete
  6. AnonymousFebruary 29, 2012 at 3:42 PM

    i liked the poem exactly how it was. but rewriting it helped prevent an anxiety attack.

    because all the poems i write right now are sad and miserable.

    ReplyDelete
  7. justin ryan fyfeFebruary 29, 2012 at 4:21 PM

    thanks for liking and rewriting. you should consider writing about things that dont make you miserable

    ReplyDelete

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