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Un-poetic Poem about Temporary Loneliness
Contributed by
Ina
on
Thursday, 8th July 2004 @ 11:10:09 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
Pages of communist poetry scratching like nails against my peg-leg,
In a candle infested room
I breathe,
And breathe-and write-something about frozen mountains-and black and white gardens,
And smoke-the lung poke,
And time f l i e s through my veins,
And no matter how many times I swallow my compulsive thoughts (the brain moves!)
They return like dirty shadows,
like old songs:
whatever will be, will be
I havent been alone in 2 vanishing y e a r s
All the blue ripped patterns in my eyes remind me of the girl I once thought I was,
Now the pills have altered
Me.
Socially.
People-peep holes
Are everywhere, like fake blood,
I need fake blood to look real,
So,
I need people or otherwise loneliness covers
(destroys)
me like gold covers cities.
In Africa women wear gold rings around their neck
A dozen two dozen for every lying man-beast that has ruled her on earth (thats not true
I am just hopelessly unpoetic)
And when she commits adultery [we call it love(lust)]
They remove
the rings and take apart the
beautiful black pyramid ; ; ; ; ; ; ; ; ; ; ;
and when they do that-day of the dozen
SINS
throwing the rings onto a long, thin,
penis- like
oh no!
tree trunk
the woman
she dies.
Copyright ©
Ina
... [
2004-07-08 11:10:09]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Un-poetic Poem about Temporary Loneliness
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Thursday, 8th July 2004 @ 11:42:40 AM AEST
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a Message)
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I do think you are very strange, and wish wholeheartedly that I had more of it in me. Your poetry is crazy thrilling odd nonsense that somehow drags itself through the reader and comes out whole.
interesting, and again, all of the above.
look forward to the next. |
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Re: Un-poetic Poem about Temporary Loneliness
(User Rating: 1 )
by zenmind on
Thursday, 9th December 2004 @ 06:51:48 PM AEST
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I thought this came out honestly. It's like you wrote it as a journal entry. I feel like you shared a glimpse of yourself that is quite private, shedding light on your perspective of your own life and self image. This is something no one could know about you, other than yourself.
I haven’t been alone in 2 vanishing y e a r s
All the blue ripped patterns in my eyes remind me of the girl I once thought I was,
Now the pills have altered
Me.
Socially.
People-peep holes
Are everywhere, like fake blood,
I need fake blood to look real,
So,
I need people or otherwise loneliness covers
(destroys)
me like gold covers cities.
This shows insight you have into yourself.
I think the first stanza might be my favorite part. It shows how your mind works as you start writing. I like that you began with the present moment that you were experiencing. Referring to breathing....this is how that is done. (Where am I? Here.......breathing.......) I don't know how many poems I've started with something about my breath. And then out of that breath, something creative happens, almost on its own....then suddenly the poem takes a life of its own. Let it go. Let it turn into what it is supposed to be. Do not interfere with destiny. Let it be nonsense.
This poem was not nonsense.
And no matter how many times I swallow my compulsive thoughts (the brain moves!)
They return like dirty shadows,
like old songs:
“whatever will be, will be”
creativity like this makes anything you write.....interesting....hahhaha
no try odd, spontaneous, free, explorative, fresh
I think we can both agree on that.
Be True,
zenmind |
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