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amphetamines


this is the only way we’re ever awake
for these kind of days
when we see the sunrise
thousands of settings apart,
your morning cigarette’s smoke curling up among
the forlorn buildings,
grimy streets &
steely skies of your city
& mine in the desolate breeze that
bleeds the pale blues & violets of my
vacant sky,
the settled snow beneath my feet,
neutral white
& not sparkling
all is still as i dress
(& try on the same shirt three times)
& you don your grey overcoat,
a blending stick, smudging you into your
charcoal scenery

these acts prove that
being awake is not synonymous with
  being alive
& this is just an absurd, whirling world
grinding on its axis & unsettling dust

& sterile is not synonymous with clean
        or safe;
& i know how long it takes
to travel from your misty harbor
to my ice-ridden river

these kind of days
we both feel the
refuse of stimulants
dragging through our veins,
but a heart pumping blood isn’t the same as
love
& undressing doesn’t necessarily equate
to intimacy
& sleep is more of a
distraction
than a comfort
for these kind of days.


In a list

A contest entry

this is a pretty personal poem so i'm sorry for the ambiguity!

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Comments


  • ellipsist
    April 15, 2007

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    you're very talented

    this is awesome... it was a pleasure to read... there's not a thing I would change about it... poetry's s'posed to be ambiguous anyway... even if things have a meaning to you, everyone's going to interpret things in a different way...

    I don't know what to make of this poem, I don't even want to speculate what it may be about... that would only cheapen the experience for me...

    ;-)


  • tiggercline
    March 11, 2007

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    Wow, just, wow. This blew me away. I don't think there's one thing about this that I don't like. I love the way you wrote it, with no capitol letters and '&' replacing the usual 'and'. It added to the whole effect quite nicely. Sort of the feeling that everything is bleak and you don't really feel alive unless you have something meaningful in your life that makes you feel that way. Like everyone is just kind of floating there living their lives, but not really living at all. Just existing. The format in which this is written creates almost an eerie silence, which is perfect for the atmosphere. It creates this imagery that is so strong, yet so emotionally void of feeling, but in a good way. As if that's what you were intending when the poem was written. I like the lines;
    '& you don your grey overcoat,
    a blending stick, smudging you into your
    charcoal scenery' Great job.


  • wave picture frame
    February 28, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    fuck, this poem took me to another planet! thankyou this is why i read poetry! and to read stuff like this on this site is rare! pieces that actually take me out of the moment i am in and put me head first into the moment you created. some lines really stood out and struck me as a really nice way of thinking. "being awake is not synonymous with being alive" and "sterile is not synonymous with clean or safe". i'm sure you know why keep up the great work friend. peace -wave x