#notepoetry

[stempls]

Funny feelings

It’s a new feeling that places the air around you. Your choices are premeditated and the results sing of happiness. Even the light in your eyes are brighter, more alive than before. At the first, you screamed sadness, a longing fear of unsettled desires. Your days were humid heat clasping at your neck. Your moods were a pendulum that reflected a tired and inconsolable heart. It’s funny but serious because of closeness to the blade you became. I read through your plans, and cried. The pain you faced hit hard against me. I was offended by it. Actually, flabbergasted. Your façade was unrecognizable. A mask molded of true perfection. Too perfect, much too perfect. You’d frown at my prodding. Accusing me of irrational thoughts. Your actions were clearly opposite of your feelings. But because I knew best, you broke down. Placed your head upon my lap as the fire streaked down your cheeks. How would I pull you out of this whole? What words could speak to make you see how marvelous it all truly is. None, He spoke in a soft keen whisper. No answer out of man’s mouth would ever be good enough. In the end you found your way with the sweetest of lamps to light the path. Laying your head upon the truest of laps. It’s foreign for you, of course, but joy all the same. You say, He sent me to help break the clay but I say He sent you to me. You see, the truth needed to be spoken to me again. Because I had forgotten from where I came. The lowness of my life. You brought back the redemption I had taken for granted. So you can thank me but I will always thank you for bringing me back from the fog. It’s funny how He works but you will learn what I had placed aside. That He always works.

[stempls]

holding onto old treasures

Tell me what you want to hear and I will spit it to you. Tell me what you want to hear and I promise not to hold back. I will not hold my tongue.  Just tell me what to say…I am bending backwards and I am tired of trying to please you, just tell me what you want to hear, what will make you stay? What will make you listen to me?  At the liquor store, you asked me what I wanted and my answer was not good enough.  I cried as we walked back home. And before we walked into the house, I asked you what you wanted and you laughed at me and went inside.  I starred at the door as you closed me behind it. Secret thoughts told me that this had to be some sort metaphor telling me that this was over. And I walked in after you, which is probably another metaphor of me not able to let you go. And I only realize these thoughts while lying next to you. You were so still; you were so cold; I was sleeping next to a corpse.  You were lifeless, your life for me was gone. And you are still the hand that strikes my match to light, you are my life.  And I do not know how to deal with that…when I woke your car was packed, and somehow I slept through the moving boxes.  I must have cried myself so heavily to sleep that I never noticed you gone.  I did not know until I saw your car driving from the garage.  And I called your name…I called it three times! And you did not pause. But you did write a letter of reasons you should have said the other night.  Do you not have any respect for me to even tell me to my face that our love was nothing?  And I carried on like a fool for months, and you write that I might forgive you? It is not a possibility, but it is not as if that matters to you otherwise, right?  You already gave up, and you are happy. And I am here…still asking myself what I could have done? Still asking you, even though you have left. Still asking you to tell me what you want to hear. Please, just tell me what you want to hear?

[stempls]

When in Doubt

Promise not to look down

and think of me weird

for keeping the last strand of your

hair.   It stays placed perfectly

in a book.  Saving my favorite

words, but in truth I just flip through

so I can smell you. 

You can giggle at the sound of my insanity,

but really I am just nostalgic. Reminiscent.

A heart ache that hides and confides in

tiny spaced lines.

Grievances have long passed but reminders

linger in the present.  One of which is purposely

positioned in fear of forgetting you. 

But I am consoled.

Of the piece you left me

and the peace you received. 

-Stempleton

[stempls]

passion sound

It radiates off the walls,

seeps into my skin and resonates

with me.  It conjures,

favorable moments of time.

It stops time.  It stops my time,

pauses me to reflect on,

how much happiness you bring me.

It’s hearty and heavy, and at

times, obnoxious but that

doesn’t mean I love it less.

It’s beautiful when you cry

and also crazy.  It’s an infectious

disease that I never want to leave.

I love it when you’re filled up so much,

that it becomes a hush. A bubbly

whisper.  Please, don’t ever stop it.

You won’t keep me from wanting it.

Oh God, how I feel when you laugh.

      -stempleton

[stempls]

Identifying Reality

Something has peeked your curiosity. All because of simple eye contact.  Has no one ever showed the proper etiquette of speaking eye to eye when engaged?  Oh, he was passing by when locked upon your eyes. I wonder if you’re settled at all with the one at home. Six years is a long time to disregard for an eye lock. Is it because of the attention? Does the other one not pay close enough attention? Conjuring scenarios to discover this kid’s identity. And you want me to accomplice, I think not! Everyday making a point to ask about him. Suggesting he’s fired or quit.  Inquiring about him. I guess I can see the mysterious appeal.  The, does he know that I know, kind of thing.  Or is that just it, you must solidify the evidence you’ve made up in your mind.  Just because his eyes meet yours doesn’t mean he identifies with you.  I have seen the girl you call beard. How keen are your senses, how exact is your detector?  Stop springing up plucked flowers and keep watering your own. 

-stempleton

[stempls]

Lifting my head to the faint yells and hollers from the distance.  I utter mocking profanities back toward the house. I stomped and teetered as the sack across my chest dragged on the ground, tripping me up and I still had three more rows to finish before going to school.  The stalks still had another few inches above me, even with growing over the summer it made not a dang difference. Adding more annoyance was the unusual clammy heat but was quickly over taken by this unexpected breeze as I stepped out into the open. I used my shirt to wipe my sweaty forehead and closed my eyes, soaking in the luscious warm wind.  More yells, but still less clear, the wind picked up. I lifted my hands in aggravating wonder.  Pops pointed behind me.  The clouds were circling faster and faster taking form.  I tossed the sack and ran, terrified I turned to see if it was on my heels yet; it hadn’t touched ground.  

stempleton

[stempls]

The cliff.  It was the steepest in our state that overlooked the ocean. Overlooking rock after rock until you see the heavy stampede of water.  I watched myself dropping to her fate. I ran as fast as I could, reaching that ledge with only my fingertips within grasp of touching her shoulder. My hand slowly dropped watching her fall endlessly, with a harsh noise hitting the shallow water. I ran to my car and floored it to the bottom of the drop. My adrenaline was soaring and I didn’t have time to sob, the only focus was getting down. I must have been driving nearly a hundred miles per hour and with my windows down, subconsciously listening to my tires whistle against the dark road. The rain and sludge shifted my car. I was coming to what felt like an eternity downhill. I hit the ground sprinting, hopeful not to find any excrements.  My lungs danced almost like they were mocking my ability to run. I coughed so hard I bled. My body quivered at the strident wind. I stumbled my way closer, only to find my burgundy sweater. I pant in confusion. I stomp through the water till eventually I am up to my head. Everything around me is fog. I turn back to the shore, noticing her shadowy silhouette disappear.  My hands blue. My veins frigid. It’s odd, just hitting me that I had been here already, for hours.

-stempleton

[stempls]

let me explain

And a swell of fear sets itself on my heart, blood is pumping faster and faster, feeling my pulse quicken. I am counting each thud, from my heart, my wrist, my fingertips and the thrashing of my head.  As the counting rambles on, the analysis never breaks. A whirl of suffocating heat blankets my skin. Perspiration stubbles my forehead.  Reflexively, I stop. Moving isn’t possible, the fear, the fear… The world is slowing and the looping circles of my mind turn the room. Focus, a faint whisper, too faint behind the thuds, behind the heat, behind the thoughts. Sound has abandoned. Body tingles.  Sight is clouded. Silly, the whisper echoes. WHAT!? The word streams as caption on the white screen of my eye lids.  Focus silly, my abnormal cure of my reality. 

-stempleton