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Pretentious

Crane my neck
To kiss a snapshot
Of yesterday's light.

Wondering if her lips taste as sweet
As my memory of them.

I fill my lungs and think:
It's a wonder I didn't sink,--
Even fishes drink.

I drown in the putrefaction,
The corpse I will become,
Convinced that I was right
And she was wrong:
Yes, that tired song.

Am I really here?
Eating, excreting?
Wearing edgy T-shirts? Over-compensate.

Am I really all about
Lubricating the gears
Of some Baroque machinery
That lives off of my perceived need to purchase,
Purchase, purchase?

And am I really talking to Jibril now
So that daughters should be murdered fourteen hundred years later
For wearing lipstick?

Well, I can take comfort
By feeling proud of being from one piece of land
As opposed to another.
And things could be worse:
Could be I'm the child who sewed the shoes
That will lead me to the nearest Ikea.

Am I really driving a car in circles
For sunburned inbreds?
Am I selfish enough to drive in circles
While everyone else pays obscene prices at the gas station?

I feel no pain from my Intelligently-Designed appendix.
Does she?

Hammer a wrist onto wood
And I smile...

Polluted, after all.

What is the crazy?

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Comments

1 - 6 of 6

  • sidewinder silver member
    August 8, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    funny how we here In the U.S. take so much for granted....
    Europe for years have paid outrageous prices for gas and it's by-products
    and now it's finally hit home


    yes Gio you have me thinking again!
    Keep penning on one stroke at a time!
    Bill


  • bigpapa
    August 4, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Astouding imagery. A mash-up compilation of emotion and fear where the feelings hit like a hammer. I personally connect with much of this piece. Well done as usual.

    "I was right and she was wrong: Yes, that tired song"

    That quote would make a pretty edgy t-shirt


  • Boson Higgs
    August 4, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Well at least I read it ay.

    I can push this button on my keyboard, and make the CD draw slide out, and in... push button draw slides out, push button then draw slides in... push button and draw slides out, push button, draw slides in, push button... push button... push button...

    Bloody well written poem, very poetic... but what is it about making something poetic, that will often obscure the meaning. What did it mean exactly?

    Something about unthinking consumption and being gadget bound and being a witless cog of the machine?

    Obviously you are writing here about a few things that you have been thinking lately? one would assume.

    Want a toke?

    . Rewarded 8


    • Big Pimpin gold member
      August 5, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      'but what is it about making something poetic, that will often obscure the meaning...'

      Actually, that's sort of the point I was trying to make, hence the title. And hence my placing it in the 'Humo(u)r' category.

      But I'll take that toke anyway.

  • IronMaiden1236
    August 4, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    ok, I am dumbfounded...just freaking amazing piece!!! Vocabulary is stunning and the cadence reflects the issues of the piece!!! Write on, Write on...

    . Rewarded 4


  • Salt Therapy
    August 4, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Giode... you are an inspiration of abstract beauty. I... love you.
1 - 6 of 6