Old Poetry XXI – Down

Published January 3, 2022
Comments: 0

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.


I'll sacrifice myself for you,
And you don't even know it,
I will damage myself if it can repair you,
But you still don't understand,
It's all for you, every piece of every action,
And you appreciate it for it,
There is no end to you,
Yet you act as if there is,
You will slowly kill me off,
And you will still tell me it's my fault,
Until I get away there is no clear answer,
Once I free myself from myself,
Will the confusion subside,
In peace I disappear.

Sometimes my poetry was my only outlet for my will to just stop existing and disappear into nothingness.

Stay tuned for Old Poetry XXII

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