Downbeat

A Collection of True Poetry

By Skyler Guengerich

Melody

Tick- tick- tick, tick- tick- tick

Metronome keeps beat

As I play play play

In the piece and like the piece

Floating through the notes

Skimming over lines

Going through

Tick- tick- tick, tick- tick- tick

Up and down

Down and up

Against the soft ivory keys

Tick- tick, tick- tick

Knowing I could play play play

But letting my hands

Tick- tick, tick- tick

Slowing down

At least for now….

Light

Sometimes when I am Playing

A light appears

Like my backwards shadow

From the notes it emerges

Floating

Fading into tick- tick beats

Beside me

It sings the notes

And I sing back

And I play

Fast

And

Smooth

And gentle

And it does not go until the song is through

And the final

Note rests

The light is strange

Loyal

Wiser than I

Pure song

Pure soul

Lately it flickers

It’s silent

A soul that is dying

Broken

I was worried about my soul

which started cracking

And stopped singing

And began to fade into darkness

And got smaller

And weaker

And I was pretty sure

I or someone had

Done something to kill it

And I would be lost

And I would be alone

Without hope

Without joy

And I would try try try

But I would be broken

Tick- tick

Tick- tick

Sooner or later

BUT!

My soul did not break

It is not dead like I thought

Instead my soul is changing

Inside me

Slowly, but sure

It changes with me

And the loneliness has stopped

Now that I realize

I’m changing too

And I look at my soul

And listen

And reach

Wondering if it is anything like me

Which it should

Be like me

Because it is me

But sometimes I am

Surprised

Because of a perfect light

That rarely shines.

You think you know me?

Ha. Look again.

Bare

I always wear a mask

Why do I?

Because I don’t like the feel

Of bare soul

Showing

Judging looks,

Nasty sneers,

Juicy gossip,

Little lies.

No harm done when said and seen

To and by a wall

With thick paint

I only show myself

In moments of weakness

Poetry or when I cry

I prefer the poetry They just think my writing Is “deep”. That’s okay with me If they think that. I do not have to explain Myself I am not Who you think I am So, before you judge, Whisper, tease I suggest you get to know me A little better Than now.

Alien Baby

I do not know how I Once a baby Became me

Growing up in a

Poor environment A trailer

With smoke around me

With alcohol Drugs

Her guy “friends” One new every night

The “cleaning” trips

Were the worst A four year old left

With four teenagers

When the week passed “Mother” was not home I was placed in the care

Of the neighbors

Another week passed No sign of mom

I went to my aunts My mum came back

I thought I was safe

Now that She was back

Until the dark car came

To take Me away

And I was placed with an old lady

Who was mean and harsh

I went to the people who are now My parents

Somehow, they fell in love

With the short hair, Crooked teeth

Blue eyes

I have a family who loves me

I remember

Dear Old Piano, I have only seen it In pictures Black with a taint of red, smooth, new My anxiety builds And my heart sinks As I feel like I am betraying An old friend As I play you, my mind Doubts What if it’s not The right sound? And the keys? Smooth? Pedals? Sadness creeps closer So, I make the most Of my last memories With you

Ticking

Ticking, ticking now,

My soul is ticking away.

Tick-tick: playing on.