The Love Poem I Can’t Seem to Write (Songs for My Tribe)

The Love Poem I Can’t Seem to Write (Songs for My Tribe)
06/29/2017, Deon Mumple

It’s still not good enough, I’ve written the same poem four times now.
I keep trying to say it just right, keep trying, but I don’t really know how.
How do you say this thing, this feeling? What are the right words?
I don’t want to say the same sounds I know you’ve already heard.

It didn’t turn out those times before, when your hope needed fulfilled
And those last two times, when you swore, no more, after the dream was killed
I don’t want to be that way,  I want to be different, and never see you hurt
But I know the times I’ve failed before, don’t trust me,  trust me, you’ll get burned

I’ve written this poem five times now, just trying to say it right
I want to make the promises and keep them, so we always win the fight
I want to be superhuman, and be heroic, but at the same time, be real,
But I don’t feel real; I’m up and down without flying, can’t even control how I feel.

I’ve written this poem six times now, and it’s never going to be perfect
The same as I know about you and me, but I’m not, and you’re not, and we’re not.
I’m afraid, you’re afraid, it’s not going to work, but I hope you’ll give it a shot.
Like this poem, I’m trying to write it right, and keep on writing it wrong,
Me versus verses that don’t have choruses, and a form that’s far from correct
Sometimes even the best composers build a bridge to write a decent love song.

I’ve written this poem seven times, this is the last time, then I’m through.
It may never be exactly right, about like trying on the wrong sized shoe,
But if a hope is just deferred but somehow I know it was meant to come true,
Maybe mixed up words will make the longing fulfilled, so I can win and keep you.

Sorry for Gratuitous Swearing

I wrote a few blog entries and then I thought, “Oh shit! My mum would not approve of me swearing. Oh, damn, I just thought a swear. They’re nonstop. Fuck!” Anyway, sorry, swearing is just going to be a part of this blog, if you can handle it, welcome and go ahead and follow if you want, I may follow back. If you can’t handle it, well, mum would say, “thank you for stopping by.”

It’s just going to happen. Some days you just need a good swear. When he was on late at night I used to watch Craig Ferguson, and he liked a good swearing in. He swore in a chummy funny kind of way. I would love to swear all chummy and funny, but I haven’t mastered that.

All I do is swear when I get upset. I get angry, I get stressed out, I get frustrated, I feel unable to cope. Swearing is a coping mechanism. It’s a stress reliever. Sometimes it just makes me laugh when I realize I’m doing it, because it’s automatic. I can tell you there are two basic reasons why I’ll swear: Mostly it’s internal, anger directed at myself, but sometimes it’s external, anger directed at people who do irritating stupid things that piss me off. I’m sorry, mum. But it’s just going to happen.

Life is full of little irritants, like the sand at the beach when you are caught in a big wave, and it gets all in your shorts, especially when you’re at the ocean and the rug-burn is accentuated by the cold salt water.. And bigger irritants like when the boss keeps piling on the work and you already feel maxed out. I need a fucking vacation. Just me, by myself. Sorry ladies, that is if you were even remotely interested, just back the fuck off. You probably weren’t, considering how beautiful you are, but surprisingly, I just want to be left alone. But you can buy me a drink at the bar, whenever, or if ever, I go on that vacation.

Catch me when I’m not bitching about everything. Life is shitty right now. It’ll take a few days off to just start to recover. Or a few drinks. Or both. Is it the opposite of swearing to say “Thank God it’s fucking FRIDAY?”