Are never ones to share, hot air,
or moldy-tossed-spoiled éclairs
from the junk-yard of a mind
It's fine, to take it all for granted
Implanted, tin-foil dreams remanded
I've never been sublime
The start, was a race against shadow -
- where stars swing judge's gavels,
and love cannot rewind
Wishes, still-born from the madness
were no ordinary sadness,
but a spider-web so fine
I was, never one to compliment
the tones of stretching filament,
and now I will surely lament
This breathing that reminds
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Wow. Looks like you worked on this a lot since I first read it. The first time I read it I felt really confused and wasn't sure what you were trying to say here. Now it looks like you lined it up more and it makes more sense but I'm still a little bit at a loss. So here's my shot at it! Lungs are what allow you to breathe which is life. But they also allow you to speak just not really directly. And so what I'm guessing you're saying is that you have a habit of leting things sit in your mind till they spoil and you never really speak out the things you need to. You just kind of take for granted that people will understand and what you realized is that they don't and you've lost something important because of it. I liked how you compared your sadness to a spider web because they are such delicate but intricate things. My favorite line was the last one though about it reminding you of what you've lost. I don't know. Probably way off but I guess I'm seeing what I can relate to.
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Honest
You can never win the race when you rewind but the spider webs are a constant reminder. -
I was all like...oh, Frank Zappa...what a treat...then like...yeah dude, blunt as a rubber hammer...and then all he's confusing subtlety with non-sequitur. Then I was like, naw man...he doesn't mean any fucking thing at all...and understood completely. I'm not saying you should tie it into a neat little package...but at least leave some bread crumbs.
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Tornado G-spot.
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stayin alive stayin alive
wooo wooo wooo hooo
stayin alive
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nice
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This would sit nicely in a bed of music. Or not. It is very musical in flow and sound. Good audible poem. Glad I caught it.
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