Life, like urinal cakes in a bar bathroom,

You can only take being pissed on for so long

Before you begin to disappear.

Left to slip down some drain made to look like a water slide.


I don’t remember much from when I was a kid

But I do remember

How I used to brag about

All the things I was going to do with my life

And what I pictured for my future

Had too many bells and whistles,

Too many accomplishments

For any one life to contain,

But now, at best I can be the bottle in my hand,

Something capable of any shape

But so breakable

It cuts like self-defense

And I keep climbing in and out of these ruts like nets.

Every time we meet

We still greet each other like strangers


I feel like I’m always changing something about myself,

Like only my name has survived the days we’ve spent apart,

Left only as a reminder,

Written on a name-tag,

Like the street signs above intersections

Where I crossed my heart

And hoped you’d find me.


All I have now are my reactions.

I’m an unknown speech impediment

Heard only when listened to closely.

I keep claiming I know the words

But still left asking how to spell them

Because maybe I just don’t know anymore,

The thought escapes me

Like I’m a cat spending my life

Trying to catch the red dot.


Someone once asked me for a truth, so here it is:

We might still be people,

But we’re not human anymore.

We’ve forgotten about our grandfathers

And waited to long to know our grandmothers.

When they left

They left us only photograph footprints

From a black and white world.

I still keep thinking

I’ll get a do-over at some point,

Like if I wait long enough

I’ll get one more chance to back paddle,

One more chance to repeat myself

And all this time I’ve wasted

Might be put to better use.

Like tongues o what they’ve tasted

And a love for what might have lasted.

I want to repeat myself,

But draw a different outcome,

Like sidewalk chalk could erase bare walls

The way leaf’s fall over dead grass.


I don’t remember what I did today

I don’t know what I’ll do tomorrow

And I’m fine with that because

All that’s left of this moment is a shard of light

Clinging to the sky

This entire evening is dropping opportunities like bombs

And I cant fit anymore regret into this bucket list

So for now I’ll keep spinning these circles

Like the hollow tornados leaving deconstructed houses

And I’ll make my mark

In some other way.

About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

2 responses to “Life

  • leamuse

    Powerful imagery of a journey traveled on the other side of the road. You leave us wondering in your final line if this is a promise of good things to come, a happy ending? or a threat?

    Thanks for choosing to follow one of my blogs. I hope you continue to enjoy the posts.

    • Sean O'Gorman

      I left the ending as open as any other moment. I believe that both good and bad are relative and the idea of a threat can only be defined by the person it is directed at. Thank you for the compliments, it means a lot that people seem to like these poems.

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