Alec Millman, 2019 Poet

Circle

A father stands tall,
a father says it all.
Truth his weapon and persistence his armor,
but he fails those he loves most.
So that he can boast
about things he hasn’t done,
and words he refuses to say.
He’ll never stay,
he’ll never be proud, words fall flat,
and the truth casts
him in the worst light.

But selfishness is his biggest blight.
Love wasn’t a concern, image remained with him,
but he couldn’t be like them, loving, honest,
caring.
The mirror shows truth we don’t like,
we try and fight,
but life and truth win.

Perception is reality,
no reality means perception will win out.
Truth remains truth,
and the fruit you bear will resemble that.
I am selfish, I am an alcoholic,
life repeats itself.
I am nothing more than a shell of your
current self.

How does it feel?
Deny what you are to ignore what is real.
But I am truth, I am proof of who you are,
do not run, do not hide.
Face truth and don’t let your demons slide
to perception.

Fathers teach you, allow you to be more than
you were meant to be. What about the absent
father, the drunk father, the child father?
I had no other.
I had sisters and brothers,
family other than the elders,
they raised me, but how much did they know?
Child teaching child, where did my potential go?
Right out the window with so many others.
We are no different. Families don’t change, no
father, no mother, we don’t bother
to understand what damage has been done.
Here i am,
dying,
suicidal,
afraid of survival,
cause after all-
I am my fathers son.


False Idols

The dream has eclipsed me
starting to betwixt me.
She breathes lovingly in my ear,
but I can never hear,
any of the paths she lays.
I only seem to stray,
like a child from his parents.
I’ve given my car more dents.

I wouldn’t be able to live.
The kindness of foreign lovers keeps my bib
messy. My stomach is full and true,
but only continually charms with the brew
I feed it. My mind is hazy and I see
no paths. I see great trees
in front of me, I can’t stand to be
who I am becoming.

My family loves me, my friends see truth,
But, I, I can see through.
My God, My God, why have you forsaken
me.
You gave me hopes and dreams,
but now the stone is sand and I wash away,
hoping for a swift end to each day.

I feel the cold sweat lean on me,
telling me I’ll never be my dreams.
I can see a light that beacons
and a hope that threatens.
Like a child in the woods,
I hold to the mystery of what could
be. I hope that I will be.


Drunk

The cigarettes keep rolling to the floor
as I only want to continue to pour more.
The drinks are always full, but the
heart remains beating at the door.
Hoping something or someone will answer,
but only liquid cowardliness seems
to be the one that has the power to be.
I’ll never see my children or my wife grow to be
something greater than me.
I’ll drink away the chance put in front of me, and be
the one that dies alone complaining I never had
any opportunity.

All the greats are glamorized for their faults.
Why can’t I be the same, I struggle and halter
any growth that should become.
A cactus grows in the desert and
alone I seek water to keep my mind.
Never knowing what I leave behind,
except forgotten memories and a fuck-
up attitude. Don’t worry, I’ll continue to suck
up any positivity and allow that to be my
memory.

I sit and squander any great hope.
I had the necessary lines laid out for me,
but as an oak dies in the winter,
I will splinter,
never seeing full growth that was meant
for me. Only the cursed broken bent
limbs I hold for the world to see.

My mother and father whisper bitter truths
hoping to see my ripest fruits,
come to truth.


Growth

I started as the eunuch.
Eager, seeking, wanting to know
the truth of what was out there.
I wanted to swallow the pill, and
let my new reality cleanse me.
Be born anew, relationships start new,
a greater gift than all I received.

Then I felt like the most loved.
I rested on the bosom of my lord
and let his hand comfort me.
His spirit led me to paths
I never knew,
challenges I would’ve never faced.
I cried, and was continually renewed.
I sighed, and was continually renewed.
Life was a blessing worth pursuing.

Soon enough, I had become Paul.
I led and taught, I preached and was
followed, I laughed louder and praised higher,
rejoiced more fervently, and kept my sins
deeper. The bosom was gone, and power
stood in my hearts place. Thomas started to
nag, to whisper loudly in my ear. My own plagues
began and I looked for the holes in my hand.
I stood tall and fought.

As hard as I tried I slowly became Ananias.
I hid the lies and tried and tried,
but couldn’t keep the truth from the one
who watched. Paul, I wanted to be,
Paul, I saw myself to be, but I slid and slid.
The longer I lived in the shadow, the
quicker the light ran.

I wanted to be the Philippians, fuck,
even the Galatians, but instead i was
the Corinthians.
My Paul couldn’t save me and I was
past the one in the father’s bosom,
past the rock, past the one who built
the kingdom.
Now, I am, the one who doubted.

I have no holes in my hands.
I have no faith to grab and no hands to touch.
The flesh won’t show and i won’t tell.
I am no Judas, but I can’t feel my guts.
I squirm and shake from the hand that feeds,
and try not to feel the pressure inside.
Doubt grows, and soon I will be left like Job.
Soon, I will complain with Jonah, soon I will have
nothing left.

I am left with nothing. The bare dust whips
against my ankles, bleeding and scarring.
I feel the limb loosening, the noose will only be
tightening, maybe I am Judas.
I know the spirit drowns my soul,
gasping, knowing I will never be
leaving the lake with this dove.
I stand gasping, wishing, hoping,
but never praying.


Untitled

Opportunity wasted.
Heart is vacant.

Life travels south,
all is doubt.

Brittle bones
make a house of glass.
Trying to outrun the past,
dash won’t beat a marathon.
Sprint,
lose.

Look to the moon,
reread Dune.

Time slows,
Liquor flows.

Shallow relationships,
let the tide rip.
My mind drifts, then forgets,
this haze, this fog, mends.
Also bends
memories,
forgotten trees.

Dreams past,
hopes dashed.

Self-medication,
decent education.

Never strife,
an easy life.
Blind. See nothing in front,
see nothing behind.
Learn no lessons,
earn no blessings.

Vase cracks,
mind goes black.


Alec Millman recently graduated from the Ohio State with a B.A. in English.