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[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

I

We do the hard things because we have to.

It’s easy to put it off because we have the time to.

But there’s no excuse.

We do the hard things because we must.

We do the hard things for the people that we trust.

We do the hard things for the people that trust in us.

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

Poetry Friday 9/21

Getting ready for the first day of fall.

September by Helen Hunt Jackson

The golden-rod is yellow;

The corn is turning brown;

The trees in apple orchards

With fruit are bending down.

The gentian's bluest fringes

Are curling in the sun;

In dusty pods the milkweed

Its hidden silk has spun.

The sedges flaunt their harvest,

In every meadow nook;

And asters by the brook-side

Make asters in the brook.

From dewy lanes at morning

The grapes' sweet odors rise;

At noon the roads all flutter

With yellow butterflies.

By all these lovely tokens

September days are here,

With summer's best of weather,

And autumn's best of cheer.

But none of all this beauty

Which floods the earth and air

Is unto me the secret

Which makes September fair.

'T is a thing which I remember;

To name it thrills me yet:

One day of one September

I never can forget.

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

My feelings ran away

I didn’t know how to treat them

Maybe if I believed them they’d have stayed

I hope they’re somewhere safe

Living in a daydream

Singing to a song I couldn’t play

But if I saw them on the street I’d say

“My baby’s come back to me”

'Cause I’ve got my love stuck in my head,

in my head

I’ve got my love stuck in my thoughts,

in my thoughts

I’ve got to keep my love in my heart

I’ve got my love stuck in my throat,

in my throat

I left my love out in the cold

I’ve got to give my love to my soul

And let go

My angel flew away

I didn’t know how to keep her

Heaven knows I needed her to stay

I hope she spreads her wings

Slouching on a sunbeam

And dancing to a song I couldn’t sing

But if I saw her on the street I’d say

“My baby fly back to me”

'Cause I’ve got my love stuck in my head,

in my head

I’ve got my love stuck in my thoughts,

in my thoughts

I’ve got to keep my love in my heart,

in my heart

I’ve got my love stuck in my throat,

in my throat

I left my love out in the cold

I’ve got to give my love to my soul,

To my soul

And maybe it’s just time,

it’s just time that it takes

But I don’t wanna wait,

I wanna love again today

My feelings ran away

I didn’t know how to feel them

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

I made a wreck out of my hand

I put it through the wall

I made a fist and not a plan

Call me a reckless wrecking ball

I throw my plates against the wall

And give it all I got

I aim to break not one, but all

I'm just a big old wrecking ball

I am unruly in the stands

I am a rock on top of the sand

I am a fist amidst the hands

And I break it just because I can

It takes a dedicated hand

To put it through the wall

You got to want to break the hearts

Of all those pretty porcelain dolls

You got to want to be the drummer in the band

You got to want to be a battering ram

You got to see the artistry

In tearing the place apart

And I break it just because I can

Let's break it

Just because we can

Deface it

Just because we can

And I made a wreck out of my hand

I made a fist and not a plan

And I break it just because I can

Because I can

Because I can

Because I can

current theme song for my life 

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

KCD 2015

Everything was always the end of the world with you.

I guess that’s what I couldn’t stand the most.

Be it that you misplaced your wallet under the bed spread or you can’t keep the hair on your head in place because I’ve rolled the window down as we’re driving along the interstate.

You always take bits of information and panic.

Speculate, assume the worst and fly off the handle.

You hear my words in a tone I always use, calm and diffused and all you hear is attack and instigation.

You lash out.

You get frantic.

Well that’s no longer something that concerns me.

I can choose to leave when I want to.

I can choose who I want to be.

Sick of being the cat wrangler.

Sick of being a goddamn baby sitter.

Sick of being the voice of reason only to have fingers pointed at me for a supposed act of treason.

Now you’re a phone call away and I don’t have to pick it up when it rings.

You can beg me to lend an ear and I just might.

We used to be close,

Why not, right?

But at the slightest hint of a fight

I no longer bat an eye.

I can leave when I want.

And I can make sure you don’t follow without having to tell you not to.

Without having to run.

Without my heart thudding against my rib cage as I pat myself down looking for my keys.

Without dodging blows and trying to gather the important things.

You want someone to listen.

Not talk.

You wanted someone to listen

not advice or opinions.

Yeah well,

I’m not that someone anymore.

And I don’t feel guilty for ignoring you.

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

Oh, Ophelia Heaven help the fool who falls in love

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

When you accidentally put “king shaming” instead of “kink shaming”

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

Hang Me Up to Dry | Cold War Kids

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

Writer’s block in A minor

You want poetry?

Well I want symmetry.

Or some other form of mimicry.

What I’ve wanted never mattered.

Insert clichés here.

To have my thoughts reflected in a metaphorical mirror.

Raise my right hand and watch the left lift to meet my fingertips.

Is this what I look like from the other side?

Do they see my flaws or just my disguise?

I ponder aimlessly from my porch.

People watching and pretending to write.

Poetry?

No entry.

These days I feel nothing at all

It’s pleasant being apathetic.

And it reminds me that any mind set is only temporary.

My main focus should be aesthetics.

Pain fades day by day

week after weak

Needs and wants change like the weather

The dark clouds clear and rain gives way to a gasping breeze

I can breathe

I can go to sleep

wake up

wander aimlessly

And do it all again

Just praying and hoping

Pretending I’ll never get through it until suddenly

It’s the end

It’s as if it never happened.

I am underwhelmed and the world will never know

I pretend to be perfect but I swallow the hardest pill of all

I eat right, exercise

Read expiration dates

Try to stay active

Visit my mother and call my father

Go to work and can’t rest unless I get the job done.

I’ve always been a procrastinator but I am physically unable to be a slacker

My mind is numb and I could care less

Hello, how are you?

Me? I’m doing my best.

I try to read

Try not to comment on topics I don’t understand

Won’t chime in when I have no factual evidence

I try to speak in a manner that keeps things interesting

Try to stay relevant and relate or face the consequences

Is this a facade?

They’ll never know because I am

The dodecahedron

Shift my face for any mood but I’m still that dead pan secret sinner

Sober in the light

But effectively trashed by the end of the night.

Weak in the knees when I fall into bed

I have a hunger for sleep

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

Anonymous - Circa unknown

I wish I could be like that.

I wish I could rest like you.

But Sadness grows in me like a sickness.

It infects my bones.

It covers my skin from head to toe.

It consumes my breath and turns my words to stone.

The kind of person that can sit by and watch their world fall apart without shedding a tear.

Without an escaping cry.

Not but once making it known.

That’s the only way to surf the waves.

The only way to survive.

As a sinner in a zen manner.

It’s not a quality we all possess.

In dire situations.

Do you stand by the doorway wringing your hands.

Hoping to squeeze out the panic and sift out solutions.

Or do you dial three digits.

Do you make demands.

Or do you idle in the entrance.

Do you tuck tail.

Do you run.

It consumes my soul like a black hole.

Sucks every shred of happiness into the abyss.

Draws the energy from my serotonin.

Pushes the air out of my chest.

They lay boulders upon me as I gasp.

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

Lavender in Bulgaria & Lavender in Bulgaria by Krasi St Matarov

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

The world you live in. Credit: KirstenPBroder

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

Donna Young (American, based Pacific Northwest, USA) - Dreaming With the Moon, 2017  Paintings: Oil on Canvas

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

“You educate a man; you educate a man. You educate a woman; you educate a generation.”

— Brigham Young

[we-are-a-brutal-kind]

Watercolor Art by Thierry Duval, on Instagram

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