Tag Archives: poetry

This Is How to Disappear


On and off,
We shared the same place
We laughed, cried,
And fought
But we knew how to
Put on the same face

And when I left,
Years later you said,
“While you were away I felt abandoned.”
I said I was looking for independence
And that’s when I knew
Things weren’t how I imagined.
We saw the world differently
Because the one who survives
Is the last one left standing.

You were always chasing the sun.
And the things we never had.
Where I was the one chasing the gun,
And all the things that were terribly sad.
I preached meaninglessness.
And the importance of chasing
Poetry and pain; it was here when
I thought we had the same face.

You said, “Come back. I can’t do it all on my own.”
But this is how you grow strong bones.
Besides, I’ve been doing it alone for years.
And there you stood on oath,
Until you upped and disappeared
Like a ghost that haunts me still.

Do you ever look back?

-Pennington

P.S.

The title borrowed from one of my favorite singers.  Their song entitled “How To Disappear.”  What can I say if it spoke to me?

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Mom


You were the one who first broke my heart.
It was because of you I learned to make pain an art.
I’m the light, but I live in the dark.
I’m the light, but I live in the dark.
I never knew I needed love until I ached,
Until I was shaped by every escape.
In kindergarten, I dropped many tears
On the pages of my homework and always
Handed it in without a world of care.
I never knew I needed to be loved until I saw
everyone else’s parents loved them back, in awe.
In awe, I was. In awe I was because I saw.
I carried around anger like my lifeline.
And I never held it against the divine.
And I never questioned if I was good enough.
I was, despite the hefty handcuffs.
I vowed to not be like you in so many ways.
I’ve set blaze to many things under your name.

And I still don’t have a heart the way I ought to.
And I sit facing entrances, never giving my back to a view.
And many of my feelings are dead and sometimes ill-advised.
And it doesn’t matter how I tread, I can’t disguise the chill in my eyes.
And the anger I kept has evaporated nearly now that you’re gone.
Permanence is never permanent, and somehow I found a way to live on.
Your body in the coffin was as real as when I imagined it at twelve.
That was the last time I cried and put my feelings on the bookshelf.
The numbness I contained up until that day released at your wake.
I didn’t understand with every preparation came a new defense,
It’s almost as if everything in life made sense, and yet not at all.

-Pennington

Happy 56th Birthday.  You’re infinite now.

See How That Works


It’s easy to put someone on a pedestal when I know nothing about them.
I imagine all these renowned blends of hot weekends and being the best of friends.
  

I like you because I know nothing of you.
I like you because in the moment I’m willing to play a fool.


I like you because I’m not emotionally invested.
I like you because I’m restless and totally tempted.


But once I get to know you I start looking for a way out.
I turn my back on you like I would any boy scout.


I start to zero in on excuses that creep in my head.
I auto-suggest and suggest until you’re unwise and dead.


I doubletalk yet act as if all my intentions are good.
I ask the lord to forgive me because I’m often misunderstood.
 
I start to pick on your flaws like a bad student.
I will say you need improvement until you lose it.


I will even make you rethink your favorite drink.
While I run hot and cold like an ambiguous sink.


And the thing is, there’s a big dark sea –
How in tarnishing the image of you, I tarnished the image you once had of me.


-Pennington

Mother


destroying_mother_nature_by_williamorihama-d7ag83t

The fable of the world doesn’t exist.
Ask the hologram of his kiss.
The dreams we dreamt evaporated.
Ask the schemes of the advocated.
The blindfold is fool’s gold.
Ask time; it never grows old.

And although nothing can stay
I wish you were here today.

The moment arrives and befalls.
Like the highs and lows of cholesterol.
The things I wish for are transient.
Like the ambiance of accidents.
The faith in my chest is insoluble.
Like consolation in the uncontrollable.

And although nothing can stay
I wish you were here today.

The memories spin on its own axis.
And feelings give way to its blackness.
The wind whispers your sweet name.
And I’m allowed to say hi without blame.
The seasons change vast and fluid.
And warm and cold weather are reputed.

And although nothing can stay
I wish you were here today.

-Pennington

Bedevil


art jenny liz.jpg

It’s your birthday month.  Will someone bring on the Bacardi rum?  I no longer feel the sun since you’ve been gone.

 

I want you to trouble me, puzzle, muscle and rebuttal me.  I want you to disturb me, discern, immerse and return to me.  I want you to haunt me, taunt, flaunt and want me.

 

I think I found love with you.  I spoke to mourning doves about you.  I swear I found a home with you.  I even ask the honeycomb on my altar about you.

 

I think I found wholesomeness with you.  I’ve been at homelessness without you.  I swore I kissed the skies when I was with you.  I even ask my thighs why they cry now that I’m without you.

 

You put a love inside me I can’t get rid of and at times, you were my antidepressant drug, the one I sometimes dream of handcuffed, strangely enough.

 

I’ve been cold since we both disappeared.  I haven’t found my heart in two years.  Won’t you appear with your childlike light in my sullen atmosphere?

 

I had a boyfriend who cared about me but he came with his own limits, his own gimmicks and every minute he’s attempting to disguise low spirits with a million cigarettes.

 

He’s nothing like you and you’re nothing him and that’s just one problem.  You barely came with conditions or superstitious wishes, but you were the warmth and blood to my heart even when it rocked bottom.

 

And I look to the sky and I ask why.  I look far and I look wide and the answers were because I cried honesty rather than decide to spend the night with pride.  You made me work for forgiveness like I was some damn spy.

 

What if I asked you to send for me?  What if I asked for your body?  What if I admitted to my monstrosity?  What if every fear we own were given to prophecy?  Would it change the divinity of possibility?

 

I can’t forget the first glance that cemented our song and dance.  I can’t clean the scent of your home from my hands.  I can’t eradicate the taste of you from my throat glands.

 

What if I still loved you beyond this distance and chip on my shoulder?  How am I to know when my heart froze that last time in October when my entire life as I knew was over?

 

And if I show up at your door, will you come?

 

Trouble me.

Disturb me.

Haunt me.

 

-Pennington

Chewing Gum


chewing gum 2.

You know what’s to come. 
You hear war drums.
You heard about the hunter in me.
You know I’m butter toffee.
You heard I bruise egos.
You know I’m blacker than Negroes. 
You heard I have a million sins.
You know I don’t fix things.

You can’t stop yourself.
You like the pains and welts.
You know the sum of what’s to come.
You love my Puerto Rican in your rum.
You like the ecstasy and high I bring.
You enjoy how I leave you on brink.
You like the bountiful sex I give.
You love me so much to forgive.

You know exactly what’s to come.
You can hear the bass and thrums.
I can’t bring you safety baby.
I’m high, low, manic, crazy.
I’m not stupid to guard your heart.
I can’t even blueprint my art.
I can’t be like you:  Lost in love.
I’m dead inside – a little too tough.

You know shamelessly what’s to come.
Interestingly enough you’re off the cuff.
I’m going to hurt you like the others.
I’ll haunt like the suffering of mothers.
I’m going to give you a world of hurt.
I wouldn’t be able to without teamwork.
You heard of ruin and what’s to come.
Now you’re my next chewing gum.

-Pennington

East Coast


Lana Del Rey West Coast
The night is sultry
The night is sultry

Our eyes are lovely
Our hearts are hungry

Under the stars
Blanket of stars

The city lights
Washington Heights

Vanilla skin
Vanilla skin

Melts on mine
Swells on mine

A slow chorus
A slow chorus

Freshly fine
Every time

-Pennington©

Artificial Verve


science-fiction-art--angel-in-battlefield-t-koni

I wanted to believe in your words the way people believe in the terms of fiction.

Now I look at you like a fraud, same as fiction. It’s why I rarely read into fantasy addiction, why I believe they’re unoriginal, imitating the channels of life sucking the masses dry of an artificial verve jacketing a world of hurt.

Except there’s a reality between you and I.

I think it might have died.

-Pennington©

Pennington’s: Dispatch from the Future


12397354-art-tree-with-butterflies-for-your-design

In the future, we know everything.
We communicate without boundaries,
We comfort from the unknown of our hearts,
We love as if we were always the wiser.

It’s a degree of perfection, (probably from past failures)?

No longer do we search for time in each other’s faces.
We gather round a pool of eternity.
We set our minds free from exasperation
And the depth of deaths in the present.

There’s a haven and within, a familiarity,
A constant incidence of urgency
Where abandonment flourished
Yet, within, the unconditional, forgotten

And we left behind the skeletons in the closet
The transitional skin of metamorphosis
And out the cocoon we became the butterflies of love

Our parents could only dream of.

-Pennington©
(a.k.a Ines Garcia)

Dispatch From The Future


In the future, we are tender.

We temper our irreverence
with intimacy.

It’s, like, slightly wonderful.

We pronounce magic
like we’re from Michigan,
and all our mothers continue
mothering, like harbors,

indefinitely.

There’s a sense of indeterminacy
with mothering and we take

turns standing like breakwaters.

Life is dangerous, wild, and yet
we welcome it.

We’re in therapy.
It’s called water.

-Leigh Stein