Do women crave balls do they know
the secret to being big or small
all I know is small can make it big -
like those Uzi shots
that punched through me and my body
for you, your ice cream/shopping mall way of life,
your pink diary dreams and enslaved forget-me-nots.
So many nights I wished for dreams -
... wished I gave you the hots
wished this dying was not real - "Nip and Tuck"
make it all right, doc, shuck my discards in a bin
destroy the fight in every day
wonder then why life sucks
... sends me into circles
yet always I find myself in corners
where my choices are not choices at all
and I realise too late pain should remain
... somehow we are all mourners at life's funeral
too messed up to see us for the killers we are
In this our choices become epitaphs -
at best littanies born from our blindness-es
as we stare at the gilded frames
of our lives and never see the inside
of our emptiness-es
...the angels cry in the rain
for our hell - our lives that are somehow worse
than endless repetitions of Boy George refrains
...when the lightning strikes
may you all finally wake tonight hiding
under your beds in fear of the lives
we are told are ours
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
Reading this the second time around ...
my emotions are somewhat different than before.
Now, after a few years further down the road, suffering makes me say:
I hear you, Neef.
Love
Myra -
Enjoy
Safe in their alabaster chambers
by Emily Dickinson
Safe in their alabaster chambers,
Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
Sleep the meek members of the resurrection.
Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.
Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence,—
Ah, what sagacity perished here!
Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,
Diadems drop and Doges surrender,
Soundless as dots on a disk of snow. -
-
Now that is beautiful. Wow. Thanks for surprising me with this here. I came to read this poem again and instead I find a thought provoking comment in the way of a beautiful Dickenson poem.
Now this poetry for me is so much cutting than this modern brutal words of neef's. like sabre to rapier or chainsaw to scalpel.
-
-
WOWOWOWOW!
Bray, he said, bray??? And how well you did this ...! I am sure that even Rof Cau would understand these words:
Genade, Nefie, daar skiet nou so 'n yslike pyn deur my ... hart.
Aggeja. Miskien is dit maar goed dat ek 'n Eva is ...
... en moet jy nou die nooi ONDER die bed in skrik????
Wragtig pragtig.
Edenkus
Myra
-
-
Hey beautiful why don't you enter?
-
Well...uh..duh... is it about how...like... ice cream's..like... unhealthy like. Like for some people may be like intolerant? uh...
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
