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Open Poetry #47
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Vague General Complacency
| Open Poetry #47 |
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Vague General Complacency |
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Fabiani Member
since 2006-05-12
Posts 123Mesa, Az 
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In a world of self realizations and carnival creations I sit patient waiting In a line of those who see and speak Just as weak and crazy as me. and me Well I havent felt that feeling that makes me whole I feel a rift in the common place In the familiar face I trace this feeling to a rough dirty beginning See we werent rich by any means But that didnt stop us from living above our dreams Not on a fence about any thing Im more on a swinging gate I see what I want and I cant reach And I see the future I see a past I see one entity (thats me) But to keep balanced I lose sleep I keep in a state of seclusion But I really wouldnt have it any other way I mean Id love to be stronger and faster and better looking But those thoughts are just small beliefs. Id like to think nobody understands me but Im sure there plenty of people like me Seeing a bubbling stream, A Blinding beam of light illuminating a sea, A dark cloud of mud drifts past and shades the scene A simple image A quiet image A relaxing image I could watch the trees sway And the my jeans fray And the pains of peoples life simple things Pains are not forever Unless you carry them on your back You are burdened and then youre turned into a vessel Carrying your pains and heartaches. Benign faces, Traces of dirt on my shoes Protrudes and stains my landscape Its draped and raped of nourishment Its a bloody tourniquet, Its been ripped And the veins have dripped my sorrow on this pen Driven by my personalities That have faces like shadows Arms like barrels too heavy to lift They sit at my side and catch my cries Immortal shrines to my life Sometimes I feel its all trite Sometimes I pick up the knife Just to admire its gleam Just to understand implications Of its blade And I fade its in reflection My face a distorted question The resurrection of arrogance The pronunciations that children misinterpret The soft lips of a women I soak up the mist I clinch my fists and Just to feel the grip I put the blade flat on my palm and close my hand I wonder how much pressure would Make me understand The pain felt by others in distant lands I wish I could I wish I might have the courage to grasp this knife Life is an figure of speech As I see its the sand beneath my feet and in my mouth Its so pleasant yet hard to swallow So I drown in the rising tide But I cant pull my face from the sand Where I hide --------------------------------------------------- The last poems i posted here was when i was a teenager now im 21 and trying to get back in to something i was passionate about |
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| © Copyright 2011 Jose Luis Fabiani Jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
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dreamgal Member
since 2011-03-17
Posts 442 |
You definetly need to continue with your writing, this was so powerfully written, you have a way of expression that keeps a reader glued.I enjoyed, Remember.. Keep writing! Dreamgal |
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Kaoru
since 2003-06-07
Posts 3892where the wild flowers grow |
A great piece, really. Very thoughtful and inspired. I'd say beware of repetition, the word "knife" and "sand" were used on more than one occasion, and although they are both powerful metaphors to use, it'd be better if you found other examples as well (that's not to say they take from the integrity of the piece if used more than once, just a kind suggestion). Enjoyed the read!  |
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