Punk Rock Papa sent me some poetry yesterday. I am sure this one will resonate with everyone! I love getting poetry 🙂
PACING DARK by Briton Underwood
I find my mind most at work when it should be shutting down
Sleep. You need it
It doesn’t listen.
In fact, it never listens
As I race line through line, zipping in and out of time
I go over the fantasies of making it
Making what? Making IT
The american dream, after all that teenage angst and growing pains I was promised it.
I have been weighed, measured and found wanting
Yet every night, there I am
Rushing racing climbing scraping.
Pacing
Back and forth inside my mind
I go round and round with the dead
Their skeletons buried in the closet
Their memories stuck in my head.
Sleep. You need it
We could count the hours as they melt in to days
But I like to pretend it doesn’t matter and I am okay
So I lay in the dark, illuminating my thoughts
Anger, passion
Love and lust
Who I am hates who I have been
Who I was doesn’t even recognize me
I run to the mirror to check the eyes
Eyes to the soul that I should recognize.
Bags under eyes that I don’t even know.
Sleep. You need it
I don’t know who I am or what I stole
Is this me, for I don’t know
Laugh nervously and hope it is
For I close my eyes and wake to this.
Briton “Punk Rock Papa” Underwood is a proud Parent, Writer and Original Bunker Punk. His passion for writing is second only to his passion for parenting. Co-founder of the Original Bunker Punks, Punk Rock Papa enjoys helping people’s thoughts, stories and emotions be heard. You can find him on his personal blog or on the Original Bunker Punks writing about what he loves, the people around him.
Thank you so much for having me!
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Maybe now you can get some sleep 🙂
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doubtful
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Beautiful poem, Briton! “Who I am hates who I have been,
Who I was doesn’t even recognize me.” I LOVE that! 🙂
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Thank you! I wrote this yesterday when I was feeling sort of shitty
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Hope today is a better day. Shitty is so shitty. 😦
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Today is better! it is always a good day when you get to lounge around with the lovely Hasty, right?
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This is gorgeous. I like how poetry looks on you. xo
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It makes me super self conscious. So poetry is like a tight dress
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It gives you a yeast infection?
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I like you less
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wait… did you move??? why didn’t I know about this???
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*waves hands*
You didn’t see anything!
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but she loves me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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I said good day,sir!
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dang it
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Reblogged this on georgeforfun.
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Outstanding piece of writing, Briton. That’s pretty much how my mind works in the middle of the night. It makes me crazy.
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