Monday, September 22, 2008

thus begins a week full of po'tree...

As Christopher stated, this week we boho coco austinnewblogger's want to do a week of poetry. If you like what you read make a comment. Give us a topic to write about. Write yr own poem in the comment section. Do something else. Do nothing. Below is a newish poem from the next book idea I've been working on the last couple of months. It isn't close to complete, but I think a little preview is in order. So enjoy the week of poetics, and don't be shy about contributing!

Packing Up Apt. #1512

So long apt. #1512
The time has come for me to move on
I arrived here a single man 2 ½ years ago
I was twenty-three
I’m twenty-six as of this poem
In love relationship adult
And very different

This tiny one bedroom apt. used to be enough
For me and my guitars
My music
My words
And my dreams
It was even good enough to accommodate K
Her cat, Maggie
And all the furniture we picked out
In the beginning

But now it is too small
We are tired of the neighborhood
We want to live somewhere that feels like a home
I’m no longer the sad songwriter
Glad to be on my own – employed
I want more
I want to build a life for my love and I
A life we can be proud of and share

I say “so long” to the walls dirty white and marked with scuffs
I say “so long” to the carpet Maggie stained food stained life stained
I say “so long” to the living room once just chair and a few things then a place for the two of us to relax
I say “so long” to the kitchen stove crusty oven burned countertops covered in crumbs and wine spots pantry empty of canned goods refrigerator you have some mustard and milk but we’re going to clean you out too!
I say “so long” to the balcony how many evening conversations and morning coffee times have you over seen
I say “so long” to the doors the windows the ceiling how you kept life safe and kept this apt. like a fortress of solitude
I say “so long” to the bedroom where comfort was the key and love came and rest was the name of the game
I say “so long” to the bathroom you dirty smelly room how did my girl ever deal with you?
I bid this shelter farewell!
We’ve grown apart apt. but someone new will find you


Get ready stuff, you’re going for a ride!
Books in boxes
CDs in boxes
Records in boxes
TV, VCR in boxes
Pictures, toiletries, kitchen ware, everything in boxes
Naked shelves are quiet in the middle of the living room
Naked walls full of holes watch K and I as we shuffle and clean house
We have cars ready to move our stuff
We have a U-Haul ready to carry the furniture to our new place
After the kind labor of good friends we’re so gone
Get ready new home!


What, if anything, will I miss about apt. #1512?
Not much at first
But as I drive away the memories will flood
I’ll think about finding this apt. in the desperate week before my new job
My new city
Far away from friends and family all alone
I’ll think about my first night of Little Caesar’s pepperoni pizza tiny portable DVD player Annie Hall, and air mattress for sleep
I’ll think about how I strummed my guitar satisfied and ready to start this phase of life
I didn’t have much and I didn’t know a soul, but I wasn’t scared
I had a job and that was my only obligation
This one bedroom seemed huge to me
The neighborhood was all apt. complexes and a ton of students roamed the streets
The “east Riverside” area was dirty and, little did I know, kind of looked down on, but it was nice enough for a young man like me at the time
I didn’t want to live like a king
I’ll miss the first time I went to the bus stop completely innocent and ready for the first day of work
I’ll miss coming home tired and just flopping down on my air mattress for a nap
I’ll miss the first weekend and grocery shopping and looking for entertainment
I’ll miss the first time my family visited
I’ll miss the time Aaron came up from San Antonio to hangout
I’ll miss the time Mike moved down the street and we were neighbors and coworkers
I’ll miss the beginnings of a new group of friends and the maturing of my empty place to a place full of books & music & the odd pieces of small furniture
I’ll miss the first time I called K
I’ll miss the time she drove me home
I’ll miss the first time she came over
I’ll miss the giddy youthful flush of new romance in a tiny apt.
I’ll miss all the togetherness and the day she moved in with me
I’ll always remember apt. #1512

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

good times - you forgot the time i decided to take a nap on your air mattress. where's your sense of nostalgia for that??

dig the poem.

chris daily