by Eric Nixon
Way off to the side
You kept to yourself
Up on the back shelf
Will anyone really care
When you’re no longer there?
March 23, 2003
Manchester, NH
This was another one that was sitting in Line Ideas (a huge Word document that I store words, phrases, and partial poems for a later date when I can finish them… a poetic incubator, if you will). I wrote the first two lines back in the summer of 2002 and liked them, but never knew how to continue. Kind of a semi-autobiographical poem but with a message to change your ways or no one will care and you’ll end up being forgotten.
Perpendicular Happiness
Alone on the highway
Alone with my thoughts
Don’t really know where I’m heading
Keep driving until I find happiness, I guess
Thinking and driving
Isn’t much better than
Drinking and driving
At least I’m not doing
Both at once right now
Just watching the exits pass
In the small time frame of things
In a few hours I’ll pass another state line
Those live in the big time frame of things
The radio is off because it’s all crap
Alone with the hum of the engine
Alone with the buzzing of my brain
Trying to think about what to do
And how I could have done everything
Somehow differently, somehow better
Trying not to think about it anymore
Thinking is the last thing I want to do
But those thoughts slip by my protests
Like the exits slip by in my headlights
What if I realize that I left it all behind
Let too much time zoom past
Between us as I think while
I’m driving under yet another
Overpass that maybe just maybe
Might lead to the direction
Where I’ll find love and happiness
Yes that other way that runs
The opposite way, perpendicular
To my current direction and destination
It wouldn’t surprise me at all
Isn’t that just the way sometimes
I turn on the radio again
For a welcome distraction
Surf the dial and shut it off
Silent contemplation is so much better
Dozens of states to go
Untold numbers of overpasses
All going another way
All possibilities that
Could be the right way
All potential roads that
Could end in perfection
Finally, at last
With every one of them
That I shoot through
I can’t help it as my eyes
Dart off over to the side
As if I’ll see the one for me
Standing there waiting
I think of how foolish this is
But part of me thinks
How foolish would I be
If I didn’t look
And I sped on past my
Perpendicular happiness
July 29, 2003
Manchester, NH
In the car a few days ago I jotted some random thoughts of a guy who was driving cross country. His life had recently fallen apart and he’s forced to deal with it over his long ride. It’s something he doesn’t want to do at all, but he gets to thinking about all the possibilities that are out there…how every road leads to another opportunity. Then he realizes that every overpass is another road, but they lead off in another direction. I know it’s something that I’d be thinking of if I were in the same situation.
Scraps of Paper
Why do I play the lottery?
I buy two tickets
Twice a week every week
On one I pick the numbers
On the other I leave it to chance
And let the machine pick
Scraps of paper
With so much potential
One minute…
And the next
Are just scraps of paper
I often think of what I’d do
If my numbers came up
Wonder how it’d change my life
Wonder how I’d spend it
I’d like to think I’d be sensible
I’d like to think I wouldn’t change
Guess I’ll have to buy that bridge
When I get to it
Going to sleep wondering if
I’m going to wake up wealthy
Beyond my richest dreams
But just as you forget
Most dreams when you wake up
I know that I’ll be the same
As I was today
Only $2 poorer
With two scraps of paper
Sitting on my dresser
June 20, 2003
Manchester, NH
I wrote it over a month ago when I was doing an MOD (manager on duty) shift at my hotel and didn’t have access to a computer in my room. It was one of those things where I wrote it on the little pads of paper in the hotel room and threw it in my bag…and then promptly forgot about. I’ve done this a few other times as well. I’m sure I have at least half a dozen other poems floating around and running rampant. It’s my job to capture, beat, and force them into public life.
…And They Were Released
Strong vivid dream
The kind you can’t
Forget easily no matter
How hard you try
The kind that when
You wake up you feel
The need to wake up again
Wake up and feel the reality
And make sure that
It’s not a dream
And double check again
Just to make sure…
Four in the car
Roof down, speed up
Talking, reminiscing
Quietly lamenting
About the event
A few years ago
That prevented
The others from
Being here tonight
Ignoring the past
Speeding without
Caring or concern
Maybe it was the subject
Maybe it was the mindset
Driving through the city
Like it was a video game
Approach a huge drawbridge
That’s up but going down
Amazed there was no lights
Or barriers or cars or anything
Hit the steep slope going 100
Up, up, up…then the air
Peaceful for a moment
Suspended up there above
The city the everything
All the lights twinkling
Wishing to preserve this
Picture perfect moment
Then gravity kicked in
Entirely too soon
Interrupting the moment
And sought to bring everything
Back to the way it should be
Lurch in the stomachs
Like a rollercoaster ride
Pulling us down
Pulling too hard
I want to get off
Safety is too far down
And the view changed
From serene to scary
Maybe we can make it down
Like they do in the movies
But I knew nothing ends
Perfectly, nicely like that
The heavy engine pointed down
Showing the way for our
Harry Potter flying car
That was missing the magic
Rusty girders passing by
Even thought it was night
You could see the rusty
It’s weird the things you see
And notice when you’ve got
No screaming from anyone
We all stared straight ahead
Someone quietly said
“It was great knowing you guys”
And we all silently nodded
The ground zooming
Up fast to meet us
More girders now
One of us fell out of the car
And half of him stopped
On a passing beam of steel
A safety campaign popped
Quickly, fleetingly in my mind
“Seatbelts save lives”
Normally I would agree
But it won’t be true for me
Then the world went too fast
The sounds of the street
The blurring of the things
Closer to the ground
Inches away and going mach 2
Intent on going through us
Intent on ending us
From all we knew
Then everything froze
Like God hit pause
On the giant DVD of life
And I was watching it
On a screen and I could see
The car mostly inverted
And at a funny angle
Blurred from the
Per second per second
And the following words
Were across the screen
In a large yellow font:
“…and they were released.”
October 18, 2003
Manchester, NH
This was the second half of an extremely vivid dream I just had. The first half revolved around the group of friends that these guys were friendly with who died in a freak accident a few years ago. One or two of them died, but the rest who were not present in the poem above were changed as a result.
Red Hats Now In Stock
Red hats now in stock
Read the sign out front
Of the little store on a little route
In northeastern Massachusetts where
Modern life seemed to have passed
By years ago for this stretch of road
Nothing newer than thirty years
Almost as if time ground to a halt
Several administrations ago
Everything faded by the sun and age
I wonder how these stores
And other businesses stay afloat
I feel bad for the mom and pops
But I’m too entrenched in today
I need my Target and Home Depot
I find the bright sign for the interstate
Zoom up the ramp and happily drive away
October 6, 2003
Newburyport, MA
I was looking for I-95 when I found myself on this little stretch of road somewhere near Newburyport. There were small shops and stores here and there, on the outskirts of some small town, like at one point this was the commercial area years and years ago. It was sad to see all the faded and dilapidated signs and buildings. I felt bad for those that owned the stores here and I got to wondering how they could stay in business these days when I’m sure there’s some giant super mega-store up the road a few miles.
Down the Dyslexic Slope
Feeling the tipsy before I feel the heat
Feeling the coolness of the bottle
As the refreshing comes up to meet
My lips as they do the trip
Down the dyslexic slope
As I stumble over the bit
Giving me heightened hope
Of good things to come
Because it’s easy to be an optimist
When the glass is all done
October 14, 2003
Manchester, NH
I wrote this last night after I had a few drinks and it hit me really hard for some reason. Probably because it has been a long time since I’ve had anything to drink.
Kissed By Someone in My Dreams
Kissed by someone in my dreams last night
I remember she was wonderfully beautiful
And the passion was beyond description
Too bad I can’t remember who she was
It wasn’t anyone from my past
As far as I can tell
As best I can recall
Maybe it’s someone from my future
The perfect someone that I haven’t met yet
That girl who is just down the road of life
Separated by distance and time and waiting
Patiently for the right person to come along
It’s just a guess
But a good one
Nonetheless
Or maybe she’s just a random no one
The nameless girl who only lives in dreams
Kissing men and breaking their hearts
And moving on to someone else’s dreams
Leaving me to longingly linger for her
That’s probably it
It’s like she hit
And ran and I
Turned to find that
She doesn’t even exist
Speculating on the identity of my kisser
Wondering why I’m so consumed by her
Silently hoping that she might be someone
Who is destined to play a role in my future
Secretly praying that she’ll be the one
August 5, 2003
Manchester, NH
While I was running errands today, I remembered that I had a dream last night where some beautiful woman kissed me. That got me thinking…was this someone I knew? Nope. Then a wave of hope flooded through me…maybe it’s someone I haven’t met yet! I know I’ve had bunches of dreams years ago that turned into amazingly overwhelming déja-vu. Then the third, and most realistic, scenario hit me…maybe she’s just that: a random nameless woman in my dreams.
Debris
I’ve second-guessed myself
For the third time today
And the fourth is around the corner
Descending in concentric circles
Thinking too much about something
Sending me into a spinning dive
For a while I was flying fine
Until a nagging notion stuck
Like a stick clogging the stream
Of conscious thought
The more debris that got hung up
The more I would sit and spin
Coughing stalling
Reeling falling
Wondering about the altitude
How much room to move
Before I slammed down
Crashed and was gone
May 19, 2004
Atlanta, GA
The perils of over-thinking.
Rinse Repeat
You rinsed your hair
Of the one that wronged you
Rinse repeat
It just becomes you
Follow the same pattern
Do it all over again
With someone new this time
Leaving you wondering why
It happened again
And keeps happening
Much to your chagrin
But it’s bound to happen
Since you follow directions
So well
Rinse repeat
December 25, 2003
En route from Washington DC to Oakland, CA
I don’t know how I got “rinse repeat” in my head on an airplane, but I did.
Rainy Sunday
Crappy, rainy day
The kind that makes you
Want to not leave the house
Stay inside and do nothing
The perfect day to think since
Rainy Sundays are reserved for reflection
For the kind of thought you can’t
Get or achieve on any other day
Delving deep into the core matters
That matter most that you’ve been
Trying to avoid at all costs until now
Where I am, what I’ve achieved
What I’ve failed at, where I want to be
My needs, my goals, my wants, my desires
All the things I skim over and never address
On those happy, sunny days
When everything seems so perfect
It takes a pissy rainy day like this
For me to finally see my shortcomings
My tendency to live life comfortably
Instead of living life passionately
I now have the freedom in that
I could go anywhere, do anything
Follow and achieve all of my dreams
But I need to see beyond the day
In everything I do
I need to see how it gets me
Where I want, where I need to be
Later in the day I’m online
Talking to a sorta friend
Someone I’ve known
Not very interesting
But she’s always there
Online, killing time
She asked what I was up to
I told her thinking about life
Where I am, where I want to be
And everything in between
This didn’t sit well with her
Since she’s the kind to accept life
And be content with mediocrity
She told me to stop thinking
And put it off to another time
Then I posed the question
If not today, then when?
She’s the reason I won’t give in
To being comfortable with life
She’s there to constantly reinforce
The thoughts I’ve thought
Do I want to end up like her
And be content with an average existence?
Do I want to end up with her
And be condemned to an unhappy life?
No fucking way on both accounts
If I wasn’t going to settle
For being married to my best friend
And living life happily but without
The passion and the burning yearning
For each other that we should have felt
There is no way in hell I’m going to settle
For this other one who preaches
Being complacent as equaling happiness
And who refuses to think about life
Because it might make her sad
There is no way I’m going to settle
For anything in life anymore
Life’s too short, too precious
To risk wasting time on people
Who hold you back
Who hold you down
And demand that you settle
Those people are there as examples
Of how not to live
If they want to waste their time
Then let them
It’s their life, not mine
I’ll politely say, “Excuse you,”
Zoom ahead, and move on
They will not impede me
From achieving my dreams
And packing as much
Passion and happiness
Into my remaining time
As humanly possible
Outside, the rainy Sunday
Continues pissing down
Inside, the rainy Sunday
Has brightened my outlook
Has changed my life
And given me the inspiration
And new direction I needed
June 1, 2003
