I Hit Send, or Modern Meltdown by Steven Boyle

I love poetry. In fact, I love 'Love'. I stumbled upon Steven Boyle's "I Hit Send, or Modern Meltdown" through a Huffington Post article (<- Thank You!). I listened to it and there was the same smile on my face, which I generally have when I recite my own poems. A smile of satisfaction on saying the truth, and saying it beautifully. I decided to put it up on theblueeyedson.com, for which I had to listen to it many times and while I typed it down. That is when, I uncovered so many layers in the poem. He walks us through his fears, his beliefs, his intense passion and unrequited love. The pronoun for him is "He". The beauty of this poem is, you can pick your own pronoun and read the poem for yourself, I will still reflect most of what you felt. "He" or "She" does not matter. It never did. Even if you want to read it from his perspective, it is still beautiful and as he says, it has "naked honesty". Thank you Steven, and may you find all the love...



I obsess over a couple of things
First there's my hair; it has to be perfect
So I mess with it until it looks like
I didn't care, then I feel like
I'm worth it
... Maybe handsome
And with product and passion
and some painstaking plucking,
I convince myself that I am
Someone worth fucking (dating)

Then there's my poetry.

I strive for naked honesty
That's why I changed the pronoun to "He"
despite the fact that he'd never have the hots for me
Unreturned puppy love on a one way street
Couldn't look him in eyes so I looked at my feet
Only to find that my shoes seemed stupid all the sudden
So I retreat
as they squeaked as I took off running...
I used to wait for him by my locker
We never really made eye contact
I'd think, maybe he is...
Maybe he isn't
But a crush overcomes that
So I stare at him, staring about something to say
But panic that I might slip and give something away
Like I'm horny, or awkward, or the fact that I'm gay (a cocksucker)

Then there's text messaging...

I read them over fifteen times before sending
Studying sentences, surveying for subtlety.
Hoping the reader won't figure it out or be on to me
What if I cross the line and flirting comes
fleeting from fingers that fight to write?
Fuck it, I'm in love.
I'm in love.
I'm in love with you.
And hit send
In my wildest fantasies I am still not that strong.
So I type and retype until I feel nothing's wrong
But it is always wrong. 
So says the Preacher,
Says the kids on the bus,
Says the pale political creatures
Whose words of hate flood the room...
Microphones through speakers.
Lucky me, I had love which runs so much deeper

It took me twenty years to come out.

I felt brave for a bit, but I've been
thinking about how to tell someone
I love them...
I am better with writing than talking sometimes,
And if I talk I might mess up and
I cant edit or plagiarize
It should be easier now everyone knows-
"I Like Guys"
But I freeze up every time I look into his... eyes (crotch)

So I will write a text message

I will say everything I need to
I will quote better poets than I
And source links that say linking guys
Is natural as green eyes 
Or my off-hand replies..
And say-
We are not alone, 
We are not alone, 
We are not alone...
And any home is a home
And type it all in my phone
There's surrogate mama's...
We will walk down the street
and ignore shady 'haha's'
Keep up to the p-p-p-poker face 
...and sing Lady gaga (Led Zeppelin)

Stairway to heaven, fuck the highway to hell

I am agnostic and it is obnoxious
for people to think they know us so well.
It's love,
Does not matter which direction I fell.
So their words cannot hurt me
I stand with the stones you throw...
Try your best to make it stick
I am far from being bullied
But my skin is still as thick.
One cannot know pain until
love is a hit or miss.
Relish in the random while I rely on the risk
And I envy all the heteros 
Who do not fear to take their pick,
While I have to read the signs
Just because I suck ...dick (at sports)

I have never known love before

but i have felt my stomach do flips
I have lust so intense
I just wanted to quit...
Makes me stare at your lips
Try and make you laugh with clever quips (messed up)

And if you are reading this

I finally hit send...

The rendition in his own voice is far better than the written word above. 


[ Things that make your day, as the name suggests are a series of short blogs that will be a celebration of hope, talent, love, beauty and life ]
(No intentions to plagiarize)

{ comments ... read them below or add one }

Popular Posts

Trending Now

Labour of Love - Varun Rajput

  In the hollows of bereft caves,  and the howling of abrasive winds,  In the smashes of untiring waves,  And the receding tired sand,  In t...

Sponsored Links

Twitter

- Copyright © The blue eyed son by theblueeyedson.com , Contents are owned by the respective authors, All Rights Reserved -

- Modified by TheBlueEyedSon (c) from Metrominimalist theme, by Johanes Djogan. -