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 Finding The Flood - Poems by Jeremy Joel

Desperate Lines Left Far Behind (THE ONE)



My brain tucked firmly in hand remembering the annoying way she orders food at a restaurant


Her golden silhouette flickering beside the candle


The only gifts worth saving are my words so what's become of them? Are they keepsakes tucked away in a manila envelope marked "J"? Maybe they're as forgettable as a dead goldfish down the toilet or a dollar bill out the car window. Are they an ashtray and a coaster for a cigarette and a drink?


I'm surrounded by nothingness in a concrete sea, sharks smelling fear but they'll never eat me


Tonight I think about the company I've lost and the freedom I despise, meaningless skin servants attempt to fill the void


These bars and clubs have become a safe haven but I'm ashamed to be a clown in this circus. It's the same drunken scene every night. The same preppy devils, the same wasted youths. Every forgotten acquaintance is a pest, any polite excuse to shoo a fly. I'm dressed to impress wearing my Clint Eastwood dress shirt, doing hip-hop handshakes with the same punks I distrust


I am the program of a robot, the hibernation of a monster; rub my eyes into a blur but the vultures won't disappear


In time there will be time for a manic miracle, before the day we are buried with our cell phones


I wait for "last call" for THE ONE to fall into my life as if a monsoon in the Sahara; THE ONE with the magic touch, a wanderer, a dreamer, someone I've never observed before, someone who'll blow me a way in a single second with a single smile, someone who casts out unordinary charm, someone who believes in two souls united, someone who accepts me for the underachiever that I truly am. But storybook endings are insulting to the working class


Fate is no anonymous passer-by with good looks. Fate is a secret kept secret since the beginning of time. It's a freezing cold waiting room without magazines, your best years disappearing disrespectfully


My stubbornness is a dedication to the deprived, 20-something's who won't get a second chance at life


Narrow-minded know-it-alls like to spew out overused philosophies such as "You only live once" and "Everything happens for a reason". Don't they understand that blind myths are mistaken for reality? These highly regarded testaments lack any real validity. They're just cheesy bits of dialog written for "made for TV" movies


Beginning of rant: Attention Real Estate Agents, Mortgage Brokers, Sales Managers, Small Business Owners, Retirees, etc. etc. Do me a favor and spare me your redundant advice. Life is rather self-explanatory and shouldn't be used as an invitation for unsolicited clichés given by unqualified, happy-hour drinking, self-help gurus such as yourselves. It's a slap in the face at the natural progression of things in the world. A wise man once said taking the road less traveled sometimes makes all the difference, so who's to say the path you've chosen is the right one for me. We know nothing of the arrivals and departures of others and even of ourselves we are clueless. Why can't we accept that and shut up?


Beware metaphorical doggerel: Where has THE ONE disappeared to? THE ONE who made
me raise the white flag, THE ONE who slipped through the cracks of my broken heart, THE ONE who bargained my love like pawn shop junk


I'm on the verge of a third-life crisis and I don't want to disassociate myself on another lonely barstool. In another city or another lifetime I suppose even I could be loved unconditionally. But which will come first, a new zip code or a new soul?


Dear God or Santa Claus or whoever or whatever,
          Take me into another rebirth with great expectations. Grant me a new lease on life, cut me some slack, give me a break. Take a chance on some miscellaneous human being yet to be discovered by good fortune. Throw into my path THE ONE, miraculous and golden, like all those stories I've heard about men and women deeply in love







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