2009
10.16
This poem once told me,
“Write me.
Like a wronged convict.”
So as to not upset the lady,
I let my pen lead the way to her place
I knocked gently
So she knew I met her genuinely
The door cracked like knuckles as it opened
Her face looked like it never has
With what seemed to be complete ecstasy
She opened the screen door and gestured for me to enter
She smirked as I walked past
Her dimples made a semicolon amidst my sentences of greeting
Which would normally imply a pause but there was no hesitation
No one seems to know where to put semicolons anyway
Headed straight to her room
As though she knew the consequences of doing so
With not a drop of remorse
She stared ahead as though she was watching a reality TV show
I followed behind her like I was the producer
Switching the lights off as I passed each switch
Before I could say anything her clothes fell to the floor
Her curves taunted me like little school boys on a playground
My hands began to tingle with lust
She grabs my hand and places it on her chest to assure me she’s human
I flinch as I do every time my hand touches her casing
To think I am touching the largest human organ without a scalpel on hand
We did what I came to do
I wrote her
With such fury and passion
Used more metaphors and similes then ever before
My pen couldn’t keep up
Stray paper marks showed my needy side
She didn’t hold it against me that I left quickly
I bid her farewell without physical contact
As I drove the windy road back home
I let the music dictate my emotions
From Lil Wayne’s seductive Lollipop song
To Oasis reminding me I’m a Wonderwall
As I reached my destination,
Gary Jules’ cover of Mad World came on
I sat in my driveway just to let it play
I held my hand on the keys of the ignition but couldn’t turn them off
I put the song on repeat and backed out of the driveway
As though it was a commitment
The slow and steady bass hit my chest
I allowed it to ricochet
Not letting a note seep into my skin
But making sure I kept guard up
Without recognizing it, I ended up back on that poem’s doorstep
Begging for another stanza
And maybe a more solid conclusion
I told her my iambic pentameter wasn’t quite right
Without being workshoped at least once or twice
She let me in
And I began to rework the piece
She showed me all her flaws
And let my eraser raw her skin
Until finally,
With a closing Haiku
I said
Soft lips touch paper
Hold my ribs open and write
Melancholy words
Its always a love poem
Its always a narrative
I’m analyzing my every move so as I don’t lose you
But I don’t even have you
You’re not mine
You should accompany me,
Not compose me
Im sorry
Im sorry I betrayed you
Im sorry I was unfaithful
But damn,
If youda seen them curves,
You would have too
© Brittany Alverson, 2009
2009
10.15
Placebo effects have been used in many capacities since the 1800’s where the definition in a medical sense was defined as “any medicine adapted more to please than to benefit the patient.” They have proven invaluable in certain situations to give relief to people merely because they believe they have taken a drug or procedure that will help them. Even real drugs, when used without the patient’s knowledge, are less effective than if the person knows they are being given to them. This represents a psychological link between general health and well-being, and the mind. Placebos used in medicine are quite common, however the placebo effect has uses far outside of medical practice.
Walk buttons placed at intersections for use by pedestrians, for example, are rarely hooked up to any device that changes the lights. The feeling of control given to the person using this button can give the illusion of their wait time being reduced, or that they have more of an influence on their current situation. Merely telling this machine that you are here, and that you are waiting, seems to create more piece of mind. Likewise, many employers allow thermostat controls to be adjusted in their employee’s common work areas – when in fact the controls are simply a placebo put in place to grant the person a feeling that they can in fact change their environment slightly.
Another common usage of placebo effects can be seen in Democratic Republics such as the United States with the practice of voting.
2009
10.14
Words used to pass between us without regret
things like hope and love and forever
that now are hard to remember, easy to forget
sounds that mean absolutely nothing to whoever
now they ride silent as whispers in silhouettes
and winds blow everything across whenever, wherever, ever more
2009
10.13
There are things you think you will forget
until they sneak up on you
like thieves to steal your best-hidden pearls of sanity
or your well-guarded mint-condition porcelain doll stability.
There are pieces of the heart that aren’t completely burnt,
but my god, we must tear them down and demolish the place;
leave you gasping for a while,
until the whole right side of the street is filled with new condos
in colors like mustard and brick red.
There used to be that nice place that still sold Lucky Strikes.
2009
10.12
accepting limitations
importance takes hold
breaking from this mold
our society’s hurtful pretense
context shameful
contents blameful
imagery hateful
tube tops and concepts dropped
ignorance blindly follows shallow wishing wells
well wishers and religious fanatics contemplate fantastics
ideology
idiocracy leads “democracy”
tounge twister
head red heart green
envy
complaints restrains templates
forged in touchless ideals
numerology
ageless and decrepid
taunting tough trepidation
touched by concepts rent of reason
living in vessels bloody with guilt
troubled built in foundation of genocide
patricide of the forefathers
shunned in bath tubs drowning
blunt objects
rounded edges cornered by dreams
eyes gleaming with hope
head doused with dope
distractions sucked in fractions of reality
stuck in the middle
partial to oneself
parted with grief
dismay made this too long to touch
out of reach
grasping for depth
deepest breath
lungs full of chest
visceral restraint
ethereal betrayal
lost sight of my vision
trapped in provision
attempting revision
avoiding the collision
concussion
percussion of the heart
beating my head to a pulp
contempt exempt from the irrelevance
surface thoughts perished with purpose
tactless
rational and too logical for sense making
raking the remains of who i once was
going too fast for attempts of braking
the moldy residue of the old me