D. B. DEVILLIERS

Poetry

Tag: Poetry

June 19, 2016

Short Dream from Some Nights Ago, Devoid of Merit and Intrigue, and One Which Therefore Will Almost Certainly Fade Fast From My Memory And Yours

Swing the room around
and again
I don’t remember the beginning
I don’t remember context, purpose
like pondering in a dream how you got where you are
it’s absurd

but let remain the dream, I say
when I wake up tomorrow
let it live a little
longer—
lucid, linger. Loose
its light enough
to cast away
the stone
pitch-dark
funerary gown

draped upon a false and hollow world
pallid, wound around with
razor-wire follies and
arterial fountains draining into midday black.
Drive it out.
Let live to try and light this life
though it will fail
it doesn’t matter.

I don’t want to remember.
Never did.

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April 19, 2016

Time

Everything changes
changes so much and
it all changes so quickly
that it’s really amazing how it’s
amazing how there’s no change
there’s no break only the constant
constant changing of things
constant cyclical changing
ceaseless cycling changes and it’s
it’s like the only thing that
never changes is the way the
way it’s all the same it never
changes always the same
it never changes
nothing changes
ever changes
it never changes
nothing ever really
nothing really
nothing ever it
never fucking
changes.

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February 17, 2016

Please Understand

Please understand
that emotions
are like airborne
diseases:
one afflicted
with a virus
will not become well again
by spreading it.

A happy person’s
happiness
doesn’t diminish
when shared;
likewise,
a sad person’s
sadness
is not made
any less
sad
by making more miserable
the misery of
others.

A poem I wrote forever ago, but one I’ve always liked a lot.

 

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August 5, 2015

Strength

Of course
you can give your heart to
someone else, but it’s a heavy
thing—
if you cannot bear it yourself,
how could you justify forcing it upon another?
How could you force a person
to carry your cross
in addition to his own?
It’s better, I think
to instead grow
stronger.

Learn to love yourself.

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June 1, 2015

Thoughts of You

I didn’t think of you when my eyes went wide
when the buzz began and I was brushing
residue from my stubbly, sleep-deprived face
when the sky was brilliant blue
and the summer air felt fresh on my bare knees
but I thought of you later.
I thought of you as I crashed hard
when the liquor which came for free
returned to take its toll on my weary mind
because you aren’t the rush, the buzz, the high.
You are the dread crash and comedown
when the drugs have run out, much like you did
and you come to fill that vacant void
from somewhere across the wastes of time and space
but you’re a ghost, and these thoughts occupy me
like water poured into an endless pit
left me wanting always more
and never receiving.

I thought of you then.

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April 5, 2015

The Good People

There are lots of good people
out there.
Just ask the next one you see
and he’ll tell you himself:
“I’m a good person.”
Be careful, though
because not everyone’s a good one
and the bad ones—
they’ll lie
and they’ll tell you that they’re good,
too
but the worst ones—
oh,
the worst ones—
they’ll think they’re telling the truth.

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March 10, 2015

A Smart Man

I’ll concede that this poem is likely
little more than an
exercise in arrogance
but I’d call myself
a fairly smart man
and I’ve been so told for
a long time
and I’ve been told, too
about the great things I’d do and be
because I’m a smart man.
Well, I haven’t seen much of that
in spite of their best standardized predictors
and I guess I must’ve been
a bit of a
disappointment
when I ended up being a little
less smart
than they’d insisted I was
but I have myself discovered one aspect
of intelligence
that nobody ever told me about
so don’t let anyone tell you
that these things come
without cost.
I’ll admit, I might be wrong
but I doubt it—
see, I’ve found that there’s just one guarantee
with intelligence
and that guarantee is that
it’s pretty
fucking
lonely.

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March 2, 2015

The Ocean

Sometimes
I feel I can relate
to the ocean and its ways;
after all, they say
we know more about what
goes on
on the moon
that we do about
the workings of the deepest
depths
of the ocean.

I guess what I’m trying to say is
that I don’t really know what I’m trying
to say, and that all I really know
is that I don’t really know
all that much
at all
but all that’s okay,
I guess.

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February 17, 2015

What Time Cannot Heal

It has been long said
that time heals all things
but in my experience,
that isn’t entirely true—
you see, time does heal most things
but some wounds are stubborn
and it takes a while, but even time
sometimes loses patience
and when that happens, it’s over
for what time cannot heal,
it kills.

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February 17, 2015

Greener Grass

Of course, the grass is no greener
in the places I’m not
but hopefully, maybe
if I’m lucky
it’ll be a little bit
less brown.

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