Sui, Sui At My Side Poem by Brett Rogers

[I beg you, please!
Take a moment,
And think …
I promise just a minute …
Good.

Like me:
Squeeze shut your eyes …

Let a tear or two begin to rise ….

And then fall!
That funny sound it makes on denim:
So heavy …

Do you see me? ]

I would hate,
Hate hate hate -
To think
For a moment
(Or many) ,
Gain momentum,
And sink
Down, down, down.

Listen.
(I quietly assure myself
Many long, dark nights in a row)
I will only record
Happy things …

Days and

* * *

Days and

There
Must
Be others:
Squeezed into a ball
On hardwood
(“Look Ma,
I stand so tall”) .
My feet sleep,
My right shoulder screams,
All my cells ask,
Quietly (don’t anger the beast) ,
“Why, whatever is the problem? ”

[Do you see me now? ]

I am standing in a crater,
The depth of my so-far existence,
And there is no use
Attempting escape.
It deepens,
And the air darkens,
As the clock tick-ticks (the only sound) …
I cannot stand a minute,
Not one damn measure,
Of familiar beats
Or nostalgic lyrics!
I am old enough now.
I need no help digging down
Into the cold Earth.
There is no use
Attempting escape …
My rented carpet has been flattened
By decades of movement,
But I have made a special dent,
Lower than below,
The unexplained heaviness of my bones.
If I pause for a challenged breath or two
On thoughts of the surface …
I will dissolve into the air,
As if Time altered out my existence:
The unexplained lightness of my being.

Times like these …

I dare not cut …
Long, suffering
Seconds into minutes
While the hardwood
Feels me bleed out.
Would I vomit?
(Mixing reds and yellow-greens,
Spreading outward
On glossy, ghetto oak)
Queasy at my own goriness?

I shall instead
Scale to new heights,
And leap …
Try, try,
Try as I might,
I wish I may,
I wish …
No one answers
Me tonight.
Please forgive.
Wrong a right,
And end my fright,
And yours,
This night.
Avert your sight!
Smirk,
And shed a tear,
“Back in the day,
He was tight”.
Breezes blow
My hair and hope
Like a kite …
I hate to fly.
I dare not jump …
“I see a scared jellyfish, ”
Says my left to my right …

Okay. OK!
Quote me …
Newsworthy guts and guns.
My name in the paper!
Self-inflicted
Gunshot
Wound.
Taste the sudden finality,
And mouth it again:
Self-inflicted
Gunshot
Wound.
Close your sad eyes, and then … Gone!
Feel it,
Magically,
Roll from the tongue …
Self-inflicted
Gunshot
Wound.
So correct …
On your front lawn.

* * *

I am up before the Sun.
Drunk,
Lazy Sun,
You have not been around
For days, and days,
And days.

I am up and gone,
Up, up and gone;
Licking,
So thick cloud
After cloud.
They are a giant one.

I say,
“But … Wow!
The Sun has not gone.
She’s been up here
All along,
In amongst
The lemon puffs.
Such a taste! ”