Be Careful What You Wish For

When the new kid came to class,
All the others pointed and laughed.
He wasn't dressed right, wasn't cool,
It gave them the green light to be cruel.

He really wasn't so different from the rest.
But he became the butt of every jest
With each giggle, laugh, guffaw,
They magnified his every flaw,

Until he could do nothing right.
And all his days were fraught with fright.
He knew whatever he'd do, he'd be wrong.
He tried so hard to stay strong.

But all he wanted was to fade away.
Finally there came a day,
When as he'd come did, he slunk into class,
And no one tripped him--no one laughed.

No one pointed or made a face,
He felt his heart begin to race.
Would they at last leave him alone?
Too much to ask, he thought with a groan.

But no one even looked at him,
Soon it was time for class to begin.
He sat in his seat as the teacher called roll,
He tried to call, Present," but had no control.

His voice was gone, not a sound came out,
So he lifted his hand and waved it about.
She called him once more, then moved on to the next,
He put his hand down, and sat there, perplexed.

She hadn't seen him, in fact no one had,
Was this real happening, or had he gone mad?
He got up from his seat, and walked up to her desk.
The whole situation had become kafkaesque.

She still didn't see him, or hear him at all,
So he walked boldly into the hall.
He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
The truth, when he saw it, couldn't be clearer,

He was invisible, and no one could hear him,
His wish had been granted, but that didn't cheer him.
More lonely than ever he ran from the school,
He got what he wanted, he felt like a fool.

He never returned; he never was found.
The kids picked another for all to put down.


©2015-Art Belliveau

unwanted revision

against my will
i am forced to revise my life
the changes multiply
day by day
another picture gone
day by day
another momento put away
as slowly I rewrite my future
by erasing your presence
writing over your absence
and changing the plot
to continue on
without you

©2011-Art Belliveau

accident 6/03/10

it was a random weekend day
before the divorce
but maybe not before you
started thinking about it,

we were out as a family
for a day on the intercoastal
in your small, secondhand boat
you were so proud of.

mom was elsewhere at the moment
probably dealing with little brother
i was alone with you
and your friends
and in front of them
in response to some
stupid, childish
11 year-old thing i said
you told me--
a smile on your face
but with hard, cold eyes--
“you were an accident.”

©2010-Art Belliveau

not over yet 6/02/10

it was a saturday
he had paid child support
that month
so i had to go
and spend the weekend with him
and her

her long, chestnut hair
combed and brushed
straight and shining
caramel eyes blazing

quietly she talked about her week
as though i really cared
what she had to say to me about it

“their god-damn dogs
chewed up our cat.
those f-wads won’t
chain ‘em up.
we found him torn apart
out in the back.
no one cared but us.
those s.o.b.s that own em
practically slammed their
damn door in our faces.
it’s not over though.
i put some poisoned meat
in the back yard.
after those fuckers eat it.
then it will be over.”

©2010-Art Belliveau

sedoka 02/08/10

walking through this life
seemingly invisible
as the world just looks through me

always out of place
their mocking laughter makes clear
I’ll never be accepted

©2010-Art Belliveau

dysphoria supreme

flowing like
wet cement
covering me
filling me
then hardening
leaving me
unable to move
or breathe
or call out for help
dysphoria supreme

©2009-Art Belliveau

black holes

In the heart of
the Milky Way Galaxy
lies a gigantic
black hole
created by
a collapsing star
heavy
and sucking
all the light away
forever

In the heart of
my body
lies a gigantic
black hole
created by
a collapsing love
heavy
and sucking
all the light away
forever

©2009-Art Belliveau

harsh

harsh

more devastating
than
your harshest word
is
your silence

more painful
than
your hardest blow
is
your absence

©2009-Art Belliveau

what a difference

what a difference
the old cliche goes
a day makes

and
worst of all
it is correct

i hate it when cliches do that

to go from one emotional extreme
to the other
to go from the wightless joy of free fall
to the crushing depths of the deep dark
in less than 24 hours

so hard to breathe
hard to move
hard to be heard through
the darkness around me

please God--let tomorrow
be different

again

©2009-Art Belliveau

9/11/09

a hand
reaches out
slow
halting
snatched back
as if from fire
as if from ice

reaches out
again
and again

each time
fingers singed
by frosty flames

each time
fingers numbed
by blazing bergs

frozen and burned
simultaneously

but still
reaches out
daunted
yet determined

to touch
to feel
the frigid forbidden fire
of its
denied
desire

©2009-Art Belliveau

weighted

trying
to move
forward
but
i’m hip deep
in wet cement
and
chained
to an achor
there is no
going back
so
i am forced
to keep
struggling on

©2009-Art Belliveau

senryu 08/08/09

exhaustion breaks me
physical, emotional
another year starts

©2009-Art Belliveau

An American Example

Booker T. Washington
Frederick Douglass
Martin Luther King, Jr.
iconic names
fighters for freedom
advocates of equality
now
mockingly
sardonically
ironic names
of housing projects
and schools
devoid of diversity
hollowed of hope
an American example
of style over substance

©2009-Art Belliveau

Ed

There is a monster under my bed.

He is my friend.  His name is Ed.

He is invisible.  I never see him.  

I think he’s stuck here.  I want to free him.

How to get Ed out and keep him unharmed,

And without Momma seeing (she’d be alarmed),

That is the puzzle I must figure out.

And it is a toughie, of that there’s no doubt.

I have tried and tried to find Ed a new place.

And a new friend, who he can embrace.

I put an ad in the paper and stay by the phone.

And invite them over when I am alone.

So far Ed’s met forty-nine new little friends.

But it’s kinda weird how it always ends.

I step outside and while I am gone,

The new friend disappears and Ed has withdrawn.

So, if you need a monster for under your bed,

Just give me a call and I’ll let you meet Ed.

And if he doesn’t eat you, you may take him home,

To put under your bed, from which he’ll never roam.

©2009-Art Belliveau

6/19/09

the curtain falls
draping me
adding unconscionable weight
bearing me down
cutting off light
cutting off hope
creating tunnel vision
illusions of emptiness
that feel all too true

I continue on
refuse to stop
though
that’s all I want to do


©2009-Art Belliveau

Perfect Day?

what I hate most

is a perfect day

the sun shining

cool breeze blowing

fun with family

and friends

not the day itself

not the company

but the wall

the invisible wall

that stands between the day

and my enjoyment of it

on my side of the wall

it is a gray and rainy day

the hot, humid air

clogs in my lungs

my family and friends

too far away to touch

and the worst part is

from my side

I can see them having fun

see them loving life

and can only

pretend

I am with them

©2009-Art Belliveau

NaPoWriMo 4/13/09

frustration
deeply rooted

grows from the spiteful seed
of regrets and broken dreams

feeds on the built-up bullshit
of daily life and unspent anger

blooms rot-stinking flowers
whose fragrance fragments future hopes

bears poisonous fruit
that despoils the soul

left untended, left ignored
branches and bifurcates

left unchecked, left to fester
chokes the mind’s garden

leaving nothing but wreckage
and death


©2009-Art Belliveau