Poetry Spotlight: Why Do You Ask Me Why I Love You?

Poetry | Kelley Rattinger

 

I fall into a dream, the kind that

runs like an old movie that’s been played

too many times,

and that cuts out in places where

the film has been overworked or,

stolen for safekeeping.

It begins the same,

diStort, ed

but, with a consciousness

of craft, (always);

the in and out focus of two drunk artists who happen

upon the same September current, and who

collide into concession about the

wildness of the season.

You smile in that way, the one that says

“hold on tight,” because you want to take me somewhere

truly wild.

You appear again in a crowd whose unfamiliarity

towers above the skyscrapers all around us.

Your hand finds mine and

the impulse sends us upward,

and we’re looking

down,

together

at a world that’s grown quiet without us.

You appear again and the moon is high,

the sand is sticking to our legs

and the air hints of rain.

Your heart is thumping through your throat

as the thickness of your secrets settle over me.

You show me a little boy filled with joy who wakes up

one day from a warrior’s dream.

He’s in a strange school, with

stranger faces, and he might as well be naked

for all the strangeness in his skin.

He’s in a new house, but it can’t be home,

because his father hasn’t come home for dinner

in a long time.

You show me a boy who returns to the place he once dreamt a warrior’s dream.

He’s in a familiar school, with

familiar faces,

but they don’t see him anymore,

and he might as well be naked

for all the strangeness in his skin.

You show me a couch that was your bed,

a curtain that was your room,

and a mother who needs you to be that warrior,

before life got strange.

You appear to me again, in a small room beneath the earth

like a bunker, with

weird

angles,

a warm orange paint,

and a door that locks.

The first room that is yours since life got strange and,

you let me in.

 

You appear to me in the night

when my mind won’t rest,

though you’re aching from another 80 hour work week,

and it starts again in just another hour.

You appear to me

when I’m feeling strange myself,

and you assure me

that it is my strangeness that

is most familiar to you.

You appear to me when my father gives you grief

because I’m in your arms now and not his,

and when you treat your mother tenderly,

because she was the first to show you a woman’s love.

You appear to me again,

and again.

“Why do you love me?”

I fall into a dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry Spotlight: All I Want For Christmas is a Cliche

Poetry | Michael Deabold

The drift of what I’ve been saying hasn’t been getting across.
Because what I’ve done is hurt you too much.
This isn’t how I wanted to end this year.
I wanted to drive away, in a one horse open sleigh with you, my dear.

As much as my patience is wearing thin.
I still want you for Christmas.
Nothing else.

It’s December and you’re coming home for the Winter.
But you couldn’t care less about me.
The things I’ve done has made you bitter and unforgiving.

As much as my patience is wearing thin.
I still want you for Christmas.
Nothing else.

Hang me at the top of your tree.
And gaze while I choke on you not wanting me.
You’re the gift I want.
But for now we stay apart.

As much as my patience is wearing thin.
I still want you for Christmas.
Nothing else.

Poetry Spotlight: Empty

Poetry | Michael Lee

I lost myself when I sat in the empty box I used to call my room

But it’s happened so many times that I’m stuck in deja vu

And I’m going through the motions, I lost track of where I am

..

I was forced to talk to strangers

Who’d sit me down in a cold lonely room

Prescribing pills I swore I didn’t need

They’d say I’m a pessimist, I’m depressed

And you would agree just to get a rise out of me

Knowing that I would fight,

Till my own words would knot me in a noose

And everyone would think you wanted to cut it loose

Meanwhile you’re the one who placed it around my neck

But I can’t fight,

So I’ve become numb to the rage.

..

Your words override what is reality in my mind

I’m caged inside false accusations that destroyed my life

I’ve been dead inside for years; but the pain is still there.

To them my scream is just insanity & I’m filed into society’s tiers.

..

I was fine before you tried to fix me

But now all I am is, empty.

Sadurdays: Websites To Check Out: SadCartoons.tumblr.com

Sadurdays is our weekly lifestyle report featuring reviews on music that inspires us, introspective websites, local events and more. This Week we’re discussing one of my favorite tumblr blogs at the moment sadcartoons.tumblr.com. As you may have already figured out, its exactly what the name says, a collection of unusually Sad moments from otherwise optimistic television cartoons. The site features a mix of both current shows like The Simpsons, Bobs Burgers, and Spongebob Squarepants as well as classic cartoons such as Rugrats, Hey Arnold, and even some classic Bugs Bunny Looney Tunes thrown in for good measure. Being a 90’s kid myself, the site brings back pleasant nostalgia from many shows i watched growing up, and yet the introspective moments displayed on the site have reminded me how relateable these shows can still be even during adulthood. Go ahead, check it out!

Review by Bryan J Mangam

Photography Fridays 12/12

Today is the latest installment in our recurring weekly feature, “Photography Fridays”, which we present a recent photo provided by one of our Photography Staff Members. If you would like to submit a photo to be posted on the site, contact us at sighinginunison@gmail.com. Kicking us off this week, here’s a recent photo by Cody Deabold.

tumblr_ngcckpGOMB1sja5qqo1_1280

Poetry Spotlight: Progressing

Poetry | Angelica Lombardo

 

tomorrow holds the many
unfulfilled promises
of yesterday.
I dread today.
I am not nearly prepared
for what life may bestow upon me.
The surprises,
the uncanny coincidences,
the spontaneity,
this brilliant thing called living-
we strive to achieve perfection
for a merely beautiful lie.
 

 

 

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