17 03 2008

When you’ve been listening to a lot of The Chemical Brothers and just letting the music take over…things are bound to happen. 

So…depending on how long you have known me, you may (and I emphasize may) remember a time when I would actually write poetry. Somewhere along the first month or two of freshman year, I just stopped. I couldn’t do it anymore. It was like I had nothing to say. Looking back, I think I just had drained myself of creativity. I was a well of thoughts that had just run dry.

So…to get to my point, one night the week before spring break I was restless. I was sitting in bed for at least two hours just thinking and unable to sleep. So I got up and sat down at my computer. And I started to write. Then it all just sort of spewed out. Then…last night I had another one of those moments, and I wrote again. It was such a relief. I had a feeling of relief as I finished.

Anyway, I decided to post them here. You don’t have to like them, but read them if you wish. The first is entitled Shapes and the second one is titled Penny on a Train Track. Thanks.

Shapes

Two shapes on a vast, eternal landscape of blue and violet

One, a shape of disease

A shape of earnest

A shape of lust

A shape of courage

The shape of a Bird.

One, a shape of stress

A shape of tenderness

A shape of frenzy

A shape of beauty

The shape of a Lion.

Two shapes on a vast, eternal landscape of red and orange

One, a green-blue trapezoid

Overflowing with desire and passion

Brimming with apathy and lethargy

A tornado of thoughts and dreams

Ablaze with generosity

Frozen with hatred and frustration

Without a concrete identity of self.

One, a sunlit oval of rich purple

Teeming with wisdom

A careful cautiousness

A swarm of selfishness

An army of compassion

A chain-link identity of self

Two shapes, on the edge of eternal mystery

What the shapes make is unknown

To find out is a dare

The risk, too great

The consequences, too final

Yet, the thought is irresistible

You can’t choose to take this Test of will.

The Test is a hunter that crushes the “greatest” of men

When it finds You, it savagely corrupts

Until your will is defeated

Then your conscious reality becomes viscous soup

And you realize what it is you are fighting

And the futility of it all.

Penny on a Train Track

Can’t remember when this happened, but…

One day this slick Dick in a stone grey suit drilled a hole in my head

With this sickly, crispy green drilling machine

Shoved in a huge metal antennae, with a flashing red light

As the red-red blood flowed out and covered his greedy appendages

Went away before all the damage was done, this slick Dick.

Never saw such ruin of compassion.

There’s a static static buzz buzz in my noggin, now.

My organic entrails are turning moldy yellow with browny spots

My skin has morphed into an unsophisticated shell

It really wasn’t that before.

My body used to be such a tithe

Forced, now, to be a casket of a former self.

This droning, monotonous buzz shoves and drains and pumps being out every opening, every crack, every scar

‘Til I am vacant of all essentials.

Now, and forever, a continuous thumping invasion on my empty, physical self

Unable to defy, I must quietly allow this gross assault

An irresistible raid on humanity

Silent pain, in need of liberation

Such a priceless, ritual experience

The being gone, my arid eyes turn to dust

My gaping mouth and shriveled tongue silenced forever.

Glad I can still feel it, though.

Feeling something is better than feeling nothing

Like I used to

A few permanent snip-snips

Can’t fly an empty carcass, anyway.

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