amphibi.us » »Jesse Hindman

hai coo

Shannon Peil — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 22:41:31 +0000

When you see the sea
and deem the dream unworthy
you’re thinking of me

White Wine and Vomit

Shannon Peil — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 15:55:03 +0000

destitution
americanized plotting
blotting out the sun
amending impossible forgiveness
lost and yet always found
finding the ways of myself
though never changing the bedsheets
i sleep under the bed
where the dirt will comfort my head sinking
attempts at chewing reality
but only finding toothless decay
there has to be another way
cliche and depressed
i waste the breath in my chest
debating the nonsense
the contents of these statements
the bless-ed thoughts we take for granted
turn to shit when you digest them
contemplating all i’ve thought
all i’ve bought with this wish for the betterment of time
all i’ve fought for
worn down and beaten
weakened in theory
strengthened in practice
i’ve lost all my tactics
tactless and immaculate
my follies rolling down this hill
this muddy hill wet with purpose
driving my own hearse
these words terse
flowing out my head
better left for dead
not nearly enough tears have been shed
accountable for only the bank statements
made dry
shy children peeking their heads around
my tainted abilities shrill and filthy
winding my way into squaredom
bored into circular logic
passtime in no time
white wine and vomit

© Jesse Hindman, 2007

[others]

Grasping for Depth

Shannon Peil — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 18:14:03 +0000

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

© Jesse Hindman, 2009

[others]

Emotional Tampon

Shannon Peil — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 15:25:06 +0000

I…

Am an emotional tampon!
You bleed your issues onto me.
I prevent your heavy flow from spilling onto the street.
Only existing for you to let it out with comfort.

I…

Am an emotional tampon!
Backing up the plumbing of my mind when you flush me.
Overflowing, pouring on the bathroom floor of my heart.

I…

Am an emotional tampon!
You discard me soaked with your pain.
A life unmade hits me, our potential unfertilized
A slap in the face that i will be removed
A promise you will never see me another way

But what you do to me happens more than once a month.
How can you discard me, when I’ve done so much for you?
How can you discard me, when I’ve proven I’m worth it?

When you would tell me your problems, I used to say:
“Let’s go eat ice cream and watch the oxygen channel.”
I am NOT your fucking girlfriend!
I will NOT allow you to go fuck your boyfriend, and then emotionally cheat on him with me!

I…

Am an emotional tampon!
You keep pulling me along with this string!

The only difference between me and a tampon is that only one of us gets to go inside your vagina!

Ooooh, women. You can’t live with ‘em…

But, I digress.
Hindsight has brought me here.
Or rather, sight of your hind-curves.
Alas, I was thinking with the wrong head.
Now that I’m thinking with the right one
I realize I put myself in your purse.
Rubbing elbows with your other tools, desperate to be used.
My tissue paper skin begging to be torn open.
Indecent exposure.
Imploring you for sexual compensation
Piteous, longing for sexual collaboration
Determined for visceral amalgamation

I’d be better off with a heroin addiction!
At least with heroin, you know where you stand.
You can’t hurt heroin’s feelings when you quit.
Heroin doesn’t scream at you when you go cold-turkey.

I was addicted to the way I felt after I thought I made a difference to you.
I became a maid to your maladies.
A devotee to your melodrama.
A compulsive for your petty peddling.
A vampire addicted to your flow.

I used to be an emotional tampon.
Now, you can find someone else to bleed on.

© Jesse Hindman, 2009

[others]

Continuity

Shannon Peil — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 15:30:36 +0000

Continuity keeps creeping up on me
Under the guise of clarity.

Without any regard to sincerity
Life nearly confronts me with solidarity.

Comparably it’s easier than fidelity
or the burdens of one’s indemnity.

[others]

His Savior

Shannon Peil — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 15:25:01 +0000

Let us now speak of a man.
A man who smells of showers lost, forgotten.
A man who smells of cigarettes defunct.
Overflowing ashtrays fill his table space
Scotch bottles scattered, filled with empty.
Half empty.
Nicotine stained fractals splash the carpet
Mandelbrot?
No.
Marlboro.
American Spirits haunt the hallway
Camels canter among the clutter.
Deep breaths taste of distress here
Misanthropic maladies permeate here
Fatigue and manifest destiny coalesce here
Within him intelligence emanates
counted among his countenance
Illness swells from his commonplace
Manic decompression
Lost things known dear to him
Abandonment ensues
Pursuing the victim
The benevolence of his intent
Lost in elucidation
His actions intense
He is lost and confusion immense

I see him now.
I see him now.
I see him now as his son.
As his son.
As his savior.
His savior for the benefit of none.
His savior who can not die for his sins.
His savior who will not die for his sins.
His savior that must live in spite of his sins.
His savior absolving sins since the 8th living year.
I can not be his savior any longer.
I will not be his savior any longer.
No, Father.
No.
That responsibility lies with you.
One day I will forgive.
For now I must let go.
Let you go.
The pain is yours.
Yours alone.
Alone.

[others]

Logically Emoting

Shannon Peil — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 16:51:52 +0000

complacent misplaced and indecent
struggling to find the reason
judgment is skewed by emotions
trying to bring logic into chaos
trying to consolidate the oceans
trying to rationalize the feeling
just to come up short
while i force my mind into healing
i know why these thoughts are processed
but can’t help the pointless nonsense
or the shit that is my conscience