Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

No, there wasn't any particular specific
reason or anything. I just decided I didn't quite
like it much, the nights were such a drag and
the days were crazed in a way. Seemed like the
atmosphere wasn't clear. Their eyes were all fogged up
and I don't know but it was like their minds appeared cluttered
and every time I muttered some non-sensical line,
it was like they took

the blind cord and wrapped it around the
darn thing, twisted it up from its original
meaningless state into something dismal
and I wish I hadn't spoke. The place became
dreary and smoke screens took hold and it was like
there was this cold vacant air, stares from strangers thick
as Gobi dust peered into me until I became faded,
disappeared.

And just as I deliberately turned to walk away
the way a player folds from a poker hand,
they damn near got me to play another
with a slick trick shuffle. I almost fell for it, too,
but no sooner did I sit back down to pick up my cards,
a hard wind blew through and I just knew it was time
to blow that joint.

So no, it wasn't like anybody said anything even
vaguely impolite – Jeb's manners were all right,
Daniel's smiled like he always smiles, his big
bright pearlies a gem, his whiskey breath not
especially offensive or anything and Ellen,
as usual, wore a pleasant attitude to top off
her neatly pressed casual blue cotton dress, which
by the way, matched her eyes. But Cheryl didn't seem
the least surprised when I made my weak excuses
and left.

So, yeah, sometimes it's not the jokes in poor taste or the
lack of graciousness of the host or the remote location
or even the lousy food, it's just that you feel sorta diminished
or on the verge of being dead and the smell of it from
inside your nose is frigging nauseating and no matter
how much you try, you really don't  know why but you
realize you gotta go, so no, there wasn't any particular
specific reason or anything, as I said.


dp.2.6.09

perfectly stated.
glad you stayed long enough to write this

thanks judih

This was not only a pleasure to read, it was a delight....you are an incredibly talented writer Doreen.
H

You gotta go sometimes. As walled-off from nature as we're accused of being, and all of nature's sensitivity and instinct lost, sometimes you gotta go.

yeah, sometimes you find out that to have a particular specific reason or not to have it, it simply doesn´t matter! great wind-ing writing, doreen!!!!!!

hest, nazz, & arcadia

thank you, poet friends

Sometimes you articulate the reason. You just have to leave. You said it so eloquently my friend. Maestro, you write the poems which make me smile and sigh.

John

sometimes are not like other times
sometimes are times of their own
sometimes you just don't get it
sometimes they just don't get you
sometimes you gotta go sometimes
sometimes are just like sometimes

but i never walked out on anybody.
i just went when i couldnt stand having myself around other people
its way to often. and i never know why that is.
thanx for leaving, doreen
that actually felt good.
maybe thats the way it feels to.
for the fuckers around me.

awesome poem doreen. i can "hear" you reading this.

seems like every word was thoughtfully picked.

Doreen ...goodgriefgirl...you sure can write .and baby when u gotta go-u go. your writing always hits me right ...yum and all good stuff... i dig it.