I'm digesting roaches, trying to believe
that calculated movements of planets
aren't lies told to us by "doctors"
[the same people who tell us God is dead
and McCartney is alive]
Maybe I'm just spinning dizzily
and living in a small box with bits
of torn up paper and flesh, while
I dream of eating the sky and trying to buy
the universe from Heaven, when in reality
it was never for sale.
I'm so surreal, building bridges
to connect fractured dreams,
finding meaning in oblivion while
I stitch quilts together, connecting 1 and 1,
feeling as if God himself is on the other side
but life has no solution [except suicide]
A contest entry
- Write the best poem in history. by DumbBaby.
900 points, ended February 3, 10 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Well penned!
Congrats on the Bronze!
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nice poem but theres more to life than suicide.
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Thanks, and indeed, hence the title.
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LOL! When I read ad nauseum I was expecting a poem of much greater length. Figures this is one of your short ones. Anywho, loved the 'McCartney is alive' reference. It was all the better because it was sweeping and pointed. This poem is straight forward and unapologetically so.
'but life has no solution [except suicide]'
Excellent use of your brackets
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