Old Poetry XI – Blank Intentions

Published October 31, 2021
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Back in the day, when I was about twenty-two and a bit later, ’til about twenty-six, I wrote poetry. I haven’t written a real poem in a very long time. I used to be so into poem writing that I would go to “open-mics” and read my poems with my friend and brief-boyfriend Calvin. Calvin was significantly older than me, and unfortunately, the relationship didn’t quite work out on my end.

Calvin and I would go to the Mercury Café in Denver and read poetry, and we’d also go to a place called the Kasbah. What’s interesting about that is that Calvin and I were two white gay guys, and the Kasbah (or Casbah) was a mainly African-American lounge that had a poetry night. So we’d show up and we’d be the only two gay white guys amidst a see of strong black poets. It was a little bit daunting.

Of course, I decided to try my hand at being a “spoken word” artist and composed a SUPER long poem. I tried to pull it off and I was clapped offstage (or played offstage) at both the Mercury and the Kasbah… very embarrassing. After that, and the fact there was a shooting at the Kasbah one night I didn’t go, and my interest in open-mic’ing kinda died out.

I used to host all my poetry, both good and bad, on my website, but it’s been a long time since I’ve done that. I’ve decided to, after approximately fourteen years, reshare the poetry that I wrote as a teenager and young adult.

Some of it is cringe, and some of it’s not quite so bad. You be the judge.

Here’s a special entry just for Halloween, one of my best:

Blank Intentions

I love you
Those three words I whispered into your ear,
Towards that first starlit moon.
Your Ford 66 Mustang pumping, 'No Fear, No Fear'
We explored my afterschool heart's confessional
As far as it would float us,
And you said words of love painting hues.
Although your voice rang like a crystal car radio,
I have to wonder if you ever really knew.
Back back before purpose filled lives,
And desperate housewives,
Back before liberty dies with megachurch lies,
Only pure life, only one need, only one greed,
My dreams fulfilled come true, because I loved you.

You were so good to me, when other doors closed,
You held me close when all others choked
Said hello when Big Brother's telescreen
Told me to just go.
Cause they just might see, what I was afraid to be

My brain needs medication you couldn't buy
But you said it's okay we would survive.
I had goals and dreams, I had super visions
But you, can't just change the world when you're
On a forced collision.

So your words of love filled my poems,
My silly lines parading all the doors we'd open,
All the ways you and I together,
How we would change the world.
But all that changed as you made the deals from every angle,
Was your cold cash pocket and your social web's every tangle.
And I dreamed classic cars as you watched me dangle,
Being all your friends' best friend
Providing the noose to strangle,
And hang,
Went out with a bang.

Saw every movie with, every trend on,
Danced while music hissed, facsimiles of you
I managed to open every door you threw
I'd pretend it was you every time just to get through.
Human endurance is an amazing tool.
For every pill you made me earn for blow,
I'd shut my eyes to see you again in starlit shows,
Every pair of pants I'd wear holes in
Your lack to purchase underwear made me wonder,
Love for me or the client, how far was it going?

Every piece I saw, all the violent stories raw,
Up to me now, a sacrifice to us above the law
Surviving together, you and me,
You yell in your godforsaken head
But I'm just a face in another man's bed.
I'm just scissors to a bad marriages thread.
You say happiness is free but
You put a price tag on mine.
I stopped writing silly lines about
Passionate automobile crimes.

The life inside has finally died with one last tear
When you don't even say the right name and
You expect me to hear,
Have to hug myself now for no cash can catch up
To all those moments I can never make up
You love me, you say, but love to you,
Has less to do with me,
Than all the things you can buy.

I've realized I don't need someone to who
I'm only a captive tool, their fool, a toy they can try
You love to raise the stakes you shoved through my life
Just to see how far, how deep, they'll knife.
No, I don't need you to wake up, nor need you to be fixed.
I don't need your cash, I mean your love, or, your kiss
The only thing I ever needed all along,
Only love absent from my lips, only currency
To run through my heart not strong,
Was me, my love for myself lifelong.

This time I decided I’d write something more spoken-word style. It actually met to great success, even “Reality,” who was the MC at the Kasbah was like, “Did anyone notice Asher got good!?” I’m a bit proud of this one. Note that this poem is fiction; its contents did not happen.

Stay tuned for Old Poetry XII

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