Poetry From A Non Poet # 4

Monday morning was eventful for as far as creativity goes. On my drive to work I had an idea for something to write. Of course since I was driving I couldn't do anything about it other than hope I'd remember it once I got into the office. Then another idea came, followed quickly by a third. When this has happened to me I tend to forgot the other ideas before I can get the first one out of my brain.

After parking I did my normal speed walk in hope that I'd be able to clock in on time. Right away I opened a Word document and started on the first thought, then opened another for the second and realized I didn't remember the third. About the time I finished typing however the third popped back and I started on it. Before long I had a fourth and fifth locked down. 

Yesterday I did some editing on them and am presenting them to be analyzed and dissected. Are they any good? I never know what anybody will or will not like. If you can figure it out let me know. I'm clueless.

Over time the urge has lessened

The voice in my head saying return to me

Has slowly dissolved into a faint memory

The desire to toss everything away

To find a way and just go no matter the consequences

Is no longer sharp and pointed

Every so often, though

When I’m not careful and let down my guard

That yearning returns and engulfs me

My mind imaging a different future

Living with that is when life becomes burdensome

___________________________________________

I feel like I’m on autopilot

Duties accomplished by rote

Days ticked off the calendar

All blurring into one

Nothing accomplished

No taking the different leap

Tomorrow will be an aberration

Tomorrow is long overdue

Tomorrow will be fun

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I stopped being me a long time ago

Now I feel as if I’m getting back to the old me

Though that version of me no longer exists

I can return to aspects of the old me

But that me will have to merge with the new me

A multitude of experiences and issues have affected me

Whether I wanted them to or not

They can’t be forgotten

Hopefully the blended me can learn from past errors

And then I can finally be a better me

###########################################

My favorite sweater is starting to turn gray

The way black ones do when they’ve 

Been worn and washed hundreds of times

The right elbow has been patched

It’s old and worn

Yet still serviceable

Like me

I’ll keep wearing it until it completely falls apart

Faithful until the end

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There’s a slow car in the left lane

The fast lane

A quick glance shows the middle lane is clear

I jet around him and see he’s looking at his phone

A sharp pull in front of him doesn’t get any attention

I don’t brake check him

But man oh man,

I sure want to

He’s still plodding on in my rearview mirror

In no particular hurry

Perfectly oblivious

Having a happy Monday Morning drive

Me, I’m late for work

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

There you have it. 5 new poems written. I'll have to see if any make the cut for my next (non) poetry zine.

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Poetry From A Non Poet 3

lago

 

I saw the water it went on forever

I felt the wind on my face

Heard the sounds of language

Drifting up to the roof

 

The sight of the island drawing near

A stranger in a not so strange land

The stairs climbed to unknown heights

The sun kissed my soul

 

Listening to the almost silence

Not thinking only feeling

Why can’t all days be like this

Why can’t I discover with you

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Poetry From A Non Poet # 2

Love is a suitable form of suicide

Leaving lies the only children born

Dive under the memories look in the mirror

Before everything fades to black

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Poetry From A Non Poet # 1

I'm the one who only exists

blessed with life but not living

observer in name and function

doomed to run in place

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Life (lyrics, poem/spoken word)

Life - written 2/13/22

 

Dissatisfaction

Enveloping

Worn like a cloak

Comfortably enclosing

Unhappiness rules

The day throughout

Kept in a prison

Of my own making

Decisions years ago

Determined this

No suicidal ideations

Though sometimes

I wish I could

Disappear

Fade

Into the dark recesses

Drifting without hurting

My only desire

Not to feel this way

Not living

Just existing

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Finally Finished - Does This Count zine # 2

After wasting a lot of time I've finally done another zine of Does This Count. Issue 2, subtitled Poetry From A Non Poet is my second haiku zine. Originally slated to be quarter size it ended up becoming a half size, basically because I mangled the cutting of the pages pretty badly and then opened up an inch long cut on my middle finger, thanks to a moment of inattention with the cutting board. So instead I scrapped what I had and started over. 

This issue will be going out in about a week to all of my zine friends and those that I admire and appreciate. With it will be the March and April issues of my newsletter I'm Not From Here I Just Live Here, as well as a mini zine dedicated to the most recent records that I bought. 

I've another zine that only needs the front and back covers to be designed and then it will be ready for printing. Of course it's been in that status for about 6 months now. Who knows when I'll get around to finishing it. 

Then there is Exercising Demons # 5, which I've been writing for off and on since 2019, my Cleveland Browns zine, one on shit stories, another for some of my favorite photographs I've taken, one for the 3 years of my ska radio show I did from 1997-2000, another about cats and, and, and there are actually more.

As you can see, I've got more ideas than I've time to work on them. They just keep on coming unbidden. Such is life. At least I'm creating again, which always feels nice. So I've got that going for me.

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

An Attempt At Writing A Haiku

Okay, For what it's worth I was sitting around with nothing better to do so I came up with a haiku. At least I think it is. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. Of course, I had to do it my way so there you go. This is based from an idea for a zine that I have thought about but not written yet. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

 Tail

I discovered

We all have a shit story

Inside our own head

Update: So it's a few hours later and this one popped in my head. It took about two minutes to write so that may attest to it's quality or lack thereof. I have no idea what I'm doing or why.


Actuality

A pondering mind
Is a terrible burden
When passion is gone

Email: notmovingpictures@gmail.com Twitter & Instagram @notmovingpics

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Hole

So I followed a link on Twitter to a poem from Ali Trotta that, for lack of a better word, moved me. I felt the need to, not respond, but get this out of me. Admitting this to myself isn't easy but it's part of my healing process I guess. Change though, I have no idea how to after so many years.

Hole

I don’t know if I was born

Or shaped this way

I only know this way

Living in fear

That I’m not good enough

For people to like

That I’m not good enough

For a woman to love

That I’m not good enough

To exist

That any woman will find

my love a disappointment

and leave me alone

If I’m already alone

Why take a chance

I have no hope

No expectations

Only daydreams

Of reshaping my past

They can never come true

I’m left with myself

Not loving myself

Hating myself

Wanting to change

Not knowing how

You can’t grow anything

When you have a hole

In your heart

Sometimes walls are the

Only thing you can build

No matter how painful

Diverting

Diverting



Stunned

Silence

Follows

Me

Confused

Glances

Fill

Faces

Heads

Shake

Hand

Gestures

Accompany

I

Don’t

Give

A

Damn

I’m

Doing

My

Own

Thing

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

New Poem: the game

This poem came to me today and it took about two minutes to get it down. Then I rearranged a few lines and changed a few words as I typed it up. Simple and sweet. Love it when it comes like this.

the game

fat robin hopping closer
closer
do you not see the fatter cat
perched atop the box
frozen
spying your every move
calculating
estimating
come closer it says
hand on the doorknob
to prevent a slaughter
sudden flash of movement
fat robin lifts to the top of the fence
fatter cat stops and observes
this game will replay
hunter
hunted
observer

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

So I Did The OK So Story Slam And...........

Wednesday night I stepped out of my comfort zone and finally took a chance. I found out six days previous of a monthly event here in Tulsa called the OK So Story Slam held at Enso downtown. The idea is that you have five minutes to tell a true story from memory (no reading) on an announced theme. They let you know well in advance what the theme is (next month it's crazy, this month it was love/lust) so that you can prepare, the idea being that you will be surrounded by like minded people who enjoy telling and listening to what the storytellers have to say. Hopefully.

I guess you could say I've been moving in this direction for a long time. Right before I got out of the Army in 1995 I became very interested in spoken word poetry. Regular poetry with it's rules and rhyming schemes was something that never interested me but spoken word was very intriguing. Henry Rollins opened that door for me and I wanted to, no, I felt the need to do it but never could bring myself to take that leap. After all, the idea of standing in front of a room full of strangers and baring your soul can be quite a nerve wracking thought. Several times I had shown my poetry to people and they had liked it but had commented that they felt like it needed to be heard in my voice more than it needed to be read. Still, I did nothing.

For me the line between doing spoken word and telling a story can be very thin indeed. It's all in the same realm though there are differences to be sure. So why did it take me so long to do it? Some of my old confidence problems are at the root of it although having read Steven Pressfield's "The War Of Art" it has also introduced me to the concept of how we create resistance and make it a real viable thing. Not only is there a fear of failure but also one of success. I cannot recommend his books enough and feel like I need to read them again to get a different perspective now that I've actually done something.

The question you may be asking is how did it go? It was frightening and scary and terrifying right up until the time I heard my name announced and then I calmly walked up the stairs, stood in front of the microphone, looked into the crowd and told my story. Every doubt, every fear, every negative reason I ever conjured up against doing something like this disappeared as I told my story. Through the rest of the evening I had several people tell me that they really liked my story and one of the organizers even came to talk to me and tell me how much she liked it especially since it was the first time I'd ever done something like this.

Sure, I've given speeches and I've taught both children and adults before in various settings but this was by far a much more personal experience. This was me standing in front of a room full of strangers sharing a piece of myself. The difficult thing for me though would be going person to person or even table to table and speak with those strangers. I am not a very social person nor am I comfortable in social settings. That night I sat by myself at the back of the room only interacting when somebody else spoke to me first. Perhaps that will change as I do this more. Yes that does mean I will do it again. How could I not after getting such an incredible ego boost? It feels like it's something that I need to do, like it fits me and more of that kind of feeling could only be a good thing.

One last note, I didn't win but that was never my goal. To paraphrase a sports cliche it was about me getting out of the stands and getting into the game. Sure winning would have been nice but it wasn't necessary. The most important thing for me was to just do it and my reward was the reaction I saw and heard during my story and after I finished. It made it all worthwhile and made me happy. Unfortunately while I thought I had recorded it on my portable recorder I must not have hit the button correctly. I would have liked playing it on my podcast. I'll have to record myself telling it again and put it up although I really wish I had audio from that night because it's just not the same. This is all so new to me so maybe next time I'll get it right. Maybe next time.

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

What Good Examples - First Draft

I've been wanting to write this one ever since it happened to me months ago and finally I've started. This will certainly be one of the songs I want to do for my spoken word/music project. I can't wait to get the time to have my music friends collaborate with and turn this into something.......if I'm lucky. At any rate, I've got to try. Why else write it if I can't do it? Tired of waiting for it to happen, time to make it happen.

You came flying over three lanes hell bent on making it into the exit

Unfortunately I had the audacity to already be in said exit lane

Forced to apply your brakes to merge behind me you voiced your displeasure manually

Hand gestures began to fly and naturally I returned them in kind
Not the best presentation of who I am but hey, when in Rome allow yourself to sink to the lowest common denominator
Why not after all, I’m only human you know
At the bottom of the ramp I stopped at the red light waiting to turn
You came flying in beside me in your minivan hurling curses in my direction before you even screeched to a halt
Then the real fun began
According to you I’m overweight
More than that I’m bald, wear glasses and apparently you don’t much like the way I dress
At least that’s what it sounded like to my ears since my windows were still up
I used body language to let you know how feeble your insults were how little sense they made
That’s when I noticed the little pre-teen sitting next to you
I noticed because she took up your battle cry and started to weigh in on your behalf
You have to ask yourself just how much life experience can someone that young have to use in a battle of the witless like this
Turns out not much
Mostly she had some neck rolling and generally just a loud mouth
Not much gravitas added by her lack of years
In a dream I followed them to their stop then proceeded to jump out of my truck and snap kick her side mirror to shreds
Merely to instruct them on how insulting people in your car isn’t so anonymous and that we are responsible for our actions
Maybe next time they’d be more careful with the words they chose
Maybe next time they wouldn’t throw rude gestures with careless abandon
Maybe next time they’d think twice about behaving so poorly
Maybe………………………..
But then I woke up and realized that even if I were able to talk to them calmly and politely they probably wouldn’t be open to listening, to learning, to becoming better people
They wouldn’t be able to see this great, grandiose example I was trying to show them
More likely they’d call the cops and I’d be the one to get in trouble
I might even get shot at, this is Oklahoma after all
The light turned green and as I started my left turn I glanced quickly into my rearview mirror and saw my son looking at me with questions in his eyes
Man, what good examples we had shown

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

John's Song- First Draft

Here are some new lyrics that I wrote today. As it happens I was listening to an old episode of the Razorcake podcast and a band was singing in true punk fashion about a great lie. My mind took that to a different place and I was thinking about saying to my son "I hope you have a great life." I'm not exactly known for writing things that are super positive or really touchy-feely. These words were born as if this were something I would be leaving behind for him, basically as advice for him to live his life by after I've gone. Anyway, this is something I definitely want to put to music and have out there primarily for him. If anybody else likes it then that's a bonus as far as I'm concerned.

John's Song

Whether I live for a hundred years
Or die tomorrow
I just want you to know
I only wish the best for you

Always remember
I hope you have a great life
Whatever you choose to do
Whatever path you take
I hope you have a great life

I'd rather be around for a long time
But I'm unable to choose
There are no promises
No guarantees for anyone
So listen closely to what I say
Take my warning true
Follow what your heart tells you
Do what makes you happy

And always remember
I hope you have a great life
Whatever you choose to do
Whatever path you take
I hope you have a great life

Don't wait for what you want
Have faith in yourself
Go out and make it happen
Don't waste your time your life

Always remember
I hope you have a great life
Whatever you choose to do
Whatever path you take
I hope you have a great life

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

medicine

medicine

All my medicine is gone again
The highest bidder disappeared
I’m left alone with my fear...
The things I love don’t stay
Melting in the days heat
The odor lingers in my mind
Battered and bloodied
Unsure of who I am
When will the future get here

Just something new that came to me the other day. doesn't mean much, just scattered thoughts and phrases.

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

I Remember When............................

I started thinking about the time I saw the changing of the guard at the President's Palace in Lima, Peru. There was a big iron fence keeping the public at bay and plenty of heavily armed police around. My wife told me that there were snipers concealed on the roof watching the crowd. My thoughts then morphed into something else, another direction and this was born.

Watching the guard changing
Shiny uniforms flashing color
Pomp and pageantry
Smartly stepping in unity
Heroes like this
Couldn’t do any wrong
Under heavy arms guards stare
Snipers concealed on the roof
What you don’t see
Most definitely can kill you
No sudden movements now
No cries of liberty
Better watch what you say
The company you keep
These are strange days
Citizens can disappear
Like the rights we gave away
In the hope of guaranteed safety
Yeah that thing doesn’t exist
Quality of life marches away
And all we do is sit and say
I remember when…………….

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

One Word

NOW!
One word
Spoken in anger
Immersed in frustration
Boiled over to the top
One too many times
None are happy
None in the right frame of mind
None enjoying their day
How does this happen
Necessary or not
Now becomes why
Why did this happen
Where did I fail
Where did we fail
Did we fail
One thing left
Sorrow remains
Lie goes on
Lessons learned or not



Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Some New Words - Land Of Lies

Sitting in church yesterday letting my mind wander (sometimes that's the best I can manage) when what should appear but an idea. That idea once written gives birth to more words than I originally realized were there. Today as I typed the result of my wandering mind and edited it as I went I now have this. Is it pretentious? Boring? Overhyped? Judge for yourself, for me it's just what I wrote and believe. Take it as such.

                                                               Land Of Lies

Surrounded by false prophets
Some well concealed
Others hiding out in the open
They've had years to practice
Daring you to open your eyes and fully acknowledge just what they are
Confident that you won't to the fullest point of arrogance
Even if you do they'll keep enough sycophants under their thrall to continue their lives of excess
They bluster and shriek their idiocy and the masses bleat out their answering call
Mesmerized by the unfounded affirmations of honor and trust
This has become a land of lies
What once was wrong is now right
The land that I, my father and his father served
For those hearing this sitting there shaking their heads in agreement
Giving a "yeah right" vote of confidence to these words
STOP
It's you I'm speaking to
Don't blindly agree because it sounds good or it's the newest trend
Think a little
Use your brain
Make a decision for yourself based on reality not on someone else's idea of correctness
Don't turn me into a false prophet
Don't make me into that which I speak against
Or do I overestimate myself and perhaps you?

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Caught In Your Lie

Okay, This is a fresh one, done tonight. Although it's not about someone close to me it is about someone I have to interact with several days a week. That alone makes it worth getting off my chest since I cannot say it to his/her face at this time. So I got that going for me.

New minted freshly hired from without

Didn’t take long for your colors to show
Given the chance to come clean
Show some character and admit it
Caught in your lie and still you persist
Caught in your lie and still you resist
You’d rather stand on your pedestal
Shout how you’ve been wronged
Any attempt to do the right thing
Burned after you’d crossed that bridge
Caught in your lie and still you persist
Caught in your lie and still you resist
Push the issue and take it as far as you can
Your mock outrage at the front
Until you run up against the final wall
I’m already tired of carrying your dead weight
Caught in your lie and still you persist
Caught in your lie and still you resist
Can’t wait ‘til you’re gone
Can’t wait ‘til this charade is over

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

Something Else New That Doesn't Have A Title

Right after I wrote "move" last week (and I mean literally within seconds) I started this one. As usual it's just a first draft and I haven't touched it since. It's unknown if it will turn out to be something more or if pieces of it make it into something else. Guess we'll just have to wait and see.

untitled

Can’t play a guitar

No good to pick up sticks
The only thing I’ve got going
With the pain the words eclipse
We go down the well
Past the rabbit hole
Searching for that piece
Of my soul that was stole
Heard the words you been singing
Reaching into my mind planting seeds
Help me find a way
To get rid of my disease

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

move - New Poem/Lyrics

I'm not a hundred percent satisfied with this most recent piece that came to me on Tuesday but it is what it is. I'll definitely be working on it in the near future. It just feels like it will need something but I can't quite put my finger on it.

                move

don’t like it around here no more

stayed past my welcome
now I feel disconnected
the only thing constant is change
and I’ve got a big one in mind

change my face, change my shape
move out of state, then go further
pull up stakes catch a plane
get the family to rearrange
and then we start to live

a new land’s been calling

better find a way to make it work
words, thoughts and ideas take shape
hindered by self doubt and fear
i just don’t know the language yet

what to do, how to do it
when do I get to live that life

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.