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Array ( [sid] => 77794 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The opressant [time] => 2004-12-30 17:32:45 [hometext] => I've been meaning to publish this on the internet for some time - battling depression as a teenager - took 3 years to write fully [bodytext] => Chocked, with a rope round my neck
I, I feel I cannot express the words that I
so desire to express – not one soul on the

Styx on which my jarred wrist lies, heeds my calls
as I write, am I right to receive an answer or
do I write to write, write a quip to

someone, someone may listen and sit, and
might impossibly understand. Tears are for the strong:
I am weakening.

Away into utter depravity, utter loneliness, what
good is it that I smile and wink and make the
rude, full-scale joke for the passing colours of

our time. You are the one who is falling away,
or is it I, who am I? Am I? Am I still? I hesitate
and blunder and err in the face of misfortune still,

that ghastly glimmer of the ghost agape with garrulous garrulity
is a waste – O but ev’ry word is mine, and only mine,
and I live for That! I live for living to love and be loved

and yet: is looking liking loving liking to look? It is
impossible to tell, or rather, I am impossible to tell -
much what I profess to you, dear reader, is what I

cannot tell. But I seek to tell, to learn, to discover: That.
[comments] => 2 [counter] => 245 [topic] => 64 [informant] => rpnsk [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
The opressant

Contributed by rpnsk on Thursday, 30th December 2004 @ 05:32:45 PM in AEST
Topic: ambiguous



Chocked, with a rope round my neck
I, I feel I cannot express the words that I
so desire to express – not one soul on the

Styx on which my jarred wrist lies, heeds my calls
as I write, am I right to receive an answer or
do I write to write, write a quip to

someone, someone may listen and sit, and
might impossibly understand. Tears are for the strong:
I am weakening.

Away into utter depravity, utter loneliness, what
good is it that I smile and wink and make the
rude, full-scale joke for the passing colours of

our time. You are the one who is falling away,
or is it I, who am I? Am I? Am I still? I hesitate
and blunder and err in the face of misfortune still,

that ghastly glimmer of the ghost agape with garrulous garrulity
is a waste – O but ev’ry word is mine, and only mine,
and I live for That! I live for living to love and be loved

and yet: is looking liking loving liking to look? It is
impossible to tell, or rather, I am impossible to tell -
much what I profess to you, dear reader, is what I

cannot tell. But I seek to tell, to learn, to discover: That.




Copyright © rpnsk ... [ 2004-12-30 17:32:45]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: The opressant (User Rating: 1 )
by LevyMetal on Thursday, 30th December 2004 @ 06:04:02 PM AEST
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AMAZING!


Re: The opressant (User Rating: 1 )
by waos on Thursday, 30th December 2004 @ 09:44:53 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
wow, i'm glad you commented on a poem of mine or else i never would have come across this... i to have struggles going on with depression and this i found was really really good. you did a wonderful job. i thought the set up was really interesting, and it is obvious how well thought out this work is. good job. i'll keep my eye out for anything else you might post.




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