Listen to this introspective spontaneous slam
independentartistscompany.com/songs.aspx?SongID=6767&ArtistID=9993
The newborn stiffens at the sound of the siren.
In his facial contortions, I too, see the nightmare
of birth controlling. Even as infants we struggle
We struggle against our memories of the past.
Only to succumb later as men to routine.
The mountains now surrounded
Our current lowered state of being
"We're in a valley". The leader spoke out
"Make a fire men to keep the wolves at bay
And back in the trees where they belong.
That way, we will secure the integrity
Of our yellowing underbellies."
It was always like this, so near to the sun
Wasting away, and breathing helium.
I know how flammable I can get
Coated over by the stink of sweat
I wish to be something other than Mercury.
How about the mirror and its blinding feedback?
My extension cord has turned way too umbilical in nature
What's the danger in wanting the barmaid to take me home?
She's so platinum blonde plus her Levis could pass for having
been painted on with a bit of Van Gogh's insanity.
My glass perspires leaving circles to stain
The already-too-stained counter-top
One more shot followed by a dark stout beer
Should set me free, and off into the dark garbage -
- choked ally. Did I even park in the ally?
Or did I stroll here from the bus stop out front
Hmmm... Perhaps that's a subject better left to
discuss over tomorrow's cheese-soaked omelet.
My sugar headache rules the coop
Like the pigeon God, I'm preened
To mate forever with eager
beta females Second best has me
centered with None other than otters
unable to float on their backs,
and muskless muskrats.
The hands of Indians
have traded our pelts
Thirsting for fire-water
To white men who need
to re-insulate their
worn snowshoes.
We all come to this corner pub
To remember what it's like to forget
To pull out crisp bills from last year's
routinely given birthday present
The dull black leather billfold
We then crumple up our change
To be deposited firmly into the proper
pockets of our choosing.
My friends are all here buying drinks
by the tray full for my enemies, who eyeball me
with discontent, and ill repute.
They have this fact duct-taped to
their bald deformed heads.
You can feel the love here in this room
It has been blended well and unnoticed
Into the magic plum sauce, I too, am camouflaged
By steel and industrial smoke somewhere
drunk in Cleveland.
I love to steal the coasters and ashtrays
On my way out I tip the bouncer with monopoly money
And remind him of the fact that his girlfriend's on my jock
We always end up fighting out back by dumpsters
Last weekend, I bit off his earlobe
Then Fed-Ex it back to him the next day
In a small ring-box with dry ice.
It took me thirty seconds to realize
That both of my socks were soaking wet
And the record-setting wind-chill factor
Was all the Weatherman cared to dwell upon
He seemed to be gloating from the midst of a
ten-minute make-up session prior to airtime
Accompanied by that ultra-white dentist-recommended
Ivory-stamped smiles. Chemically whitened to the point
of blinding shrapnel-like intensity.
I knew that I was definitely in the thick of disaster
Battery-operated socks only work if you've taken
the time to purchase batteries.
Back to the leaves, I feel a deal this real
Can only be heard by the deaf
When mutant songbirds
Sit wired between leaning telephone poles
And indifferent sunbathing reptiles
I know this swamp as the always damp rumored tumor.
Brain sized and walnut detailed
I too golf dizzily behind my grandmother
And her bridge-club girlfriends
My martini is well enough poised
Properly positioned in the grip
Of my well-manicured hand
Complete with clear nail polish from Neimen Marcus
Obliviously drunk, and well programmed
I join the herd for dinner.
independentartistscompany.com/songs.aspx?SongID=6767&ArtistID=9993
Author notes
independentartistscompany.com/songs.aspx?SongID=6767&ArtistID=9993
Written December 27th, 2003
In a list
A contest entry
- Release poets poetry Contest by Shattered Remains.
300 points, ended October 10, 2005, 2 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 16 of 16
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A life is a poem.
I must say the strength of the poet is just unique. The travell of the thoughts which the poet is driving successfully from begining to end is not merely a easy job. It is just a tough job which one brilliant poet can handel very nicely as it is seen in this write. The thoughts are very provoking and the description part of this work is the beauty of this write. The immagery is another area of its strength too. The flow of the write is again very rythemic and very poetic too. I really appreciate this work.prabhudayal khattar -
well.....i don't really know what to say, its a little long, i usually lose interest really quickly, but i actually read this piece a couple of times, but i just don't know what to say. i like reading it tho....obviously, if i read it more than once...........sorry i couldn't give you a more meaningful comment........................
sweetdemise
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great write, you couldnt of said anything that was truer. I liked this piece, your use of imagery was excellent as was your choice of words.
You have done such an excellent job eith this piece.
Thank you for sharing.
--You have just been Dented-- -
the routine of man is a chore isn't it lol mmm i want some booze now and a platinum blonde, dinner is always nice after drinking, well it is before and during too.
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Eck.
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Excellent
Very impressive lets have a shot of tequila, now!
Edited on May 12, 3:35 p.m. because 'one too many l's'. -
man, there is so much in this it's almost too much to comprehend. yeah. i've got a sublime/burroughs/miller feel from this. very cool.
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Heyyy... I was playing at reading the poems in the contest and seeing what kinds of comments they had and not bothering to comment on them because I didn't feel like it, but I really like this. It's very storytold. You've got some really brilliant images in here... I could list them all, but I think it would take up far too much space, and you know you're good, anyway. Or, I could copy and paste each little bit I like, and earn myself lots of points for a lengthy comment, but I'd probably just recopy the whole thing.
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Mind Reeling
Wow! I am completely overloaded with images from this piece - like I speed-clicked through 80 channels of television.
You've got some great lines here (which I shall make the effort of NOT quoting) -- but the standout is "her Levis could pass for having been painted on with a bit of Van Gogh's insanity."
Free form verse doesn't always work well, but the flow here is nice, smooth and the story oozes coherently (well, what passes for that in this permutation of reality) from stanza to stanza.
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I do very much like your poem: nice allusions, nice everything really, but man does the character in this ever sound like an asshole. ::cough:: Ah well, I guess he at least mailed the bouncer back the earlobe on ice. He could have just spat it out in a puddle or something for a mangy streetcat to eat.
The contemporary language in this reminds me of Allen Ginsberg. Awesome. -
you have such a way of describing things, very pretty yet with an undeniable attitude
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this is interesting, i think i like it, but im not sure. one thing i do know is that i liked this:
It was always like this so near to the sun
Wasting away, and breathing helium.
I know how flammable I can get
Coated over by the stink of sweat
I wish to be something other than just Mercury
ok, best of luck and i have to read this a few more times to let it all sink in.
good job! best of luck... -
Well, thank you...
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hehe maybe! "a 40oz to freedom is the only chance i have to feel good even though i feel bad" tis true, and your welcome by the way..
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It could be worse, you could be wearing two different covered songs on purpose, or because that's all that's left to wear. Like me
Thanks by the way. -
i love alcohol, and i'd liek to tell you to fuck off for reminding me i am wearing two different sock from last night. haha im jokimg, im joking. wlel done and its fucking true, cant deny it. we're all barbie dolls and action figures! materials... well, keep writing, this was humorous as well as honest. i liked it.
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