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Open Poetry #28
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Kaoru
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Member Elite
since 2003-06-07
Posts 3892
where the wild flowers grow

0 posted 2003-08-12 05:02 PM


It looks as if
my walls are breathing..
Am I dying?
Or are there just
no walls?

Since when did
my fan squeak
everytime it turns left..

..how is it that I'm tired
when I've gotten too much sleep,
that I hear thunder though
the sky is clear?

I hold my hurting head in palm,
the god -or what have you-
likes to turn my little world
upside down..

And I don't want to hear a peep,
fan..
not another sound..
Don't make me dig
you a nice little grave, don't
make me dig my own..

It's kind of like
when it rains
and the sun's shining at the same time..
or like
writing in the dark and
coming up with somthing so nice..

The walls are still heaving
in-and-out..
pulsating like a jugular vein..
I've given myself too much to
think about.
Why can't I remember my name?

© Copyright 2003 Meghan Armitage - All Rights Reserved
eminor_angel
Member
since 2003-05-22
Posts 323
Canada
1 posted 2003-08-12 06:03 PM


i can't believe this has no comments yet? what's with you people? this is an awesome poem, as always, megan
ctowen
Member Elite
since 2001-10-18
Posts 2286
Green Mountains of VT
2 posted 2003-08-12 07:09 PM


As a child I recall the fascination
   of having someone talk through the backside
   of a working fan ....

         ...  it always sounded ...
                 death defying!


        With these muggy days passing,
              I feel your pain

        my fan, my friend everlasting
              keep calling my name


                       *S

littlewing
Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655
New York
3 posted 2003-08-12 07:13 PM


Meg,

this is a perfect stanza . . .

And I don't want to hear a peep,
fan..
not another sound..
Don't make me dig
you a nice little grave, don't
make me dig my own..

ssshhhh . . . .
xxoo

Aenimal
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350
the ass-end of space
4 posted 2003-08-12 08:32 PM


And I don't want to hear a peep,
fan..
not another sound..
Don't make me dig
you a nice little grave, don't
make me dig my own..

its the littles things that set us off no

Rosemary J. Gwaltney
Senior Member
since 1999-08-26
Posts 997
northern mountains, Idaho
5 posted 2003-08-12 09:49 PM


This is poignant and haunting.  Such sadness.  Well written.


S Arthur Grey
Senior Member
since 2001-03-19
Posts 719
woven by a poet's loom
6 posted 2003-08-12 10:07 PM


Ow!
Well penned Kaoru!

"Why can't I remember my name?"


You don't have a name.
Nor do I.
Sometimes we find that place.
I think you are about to find it too.

s.a.g.

Jason Lyle
Senior Member
since 2003-02-07
Posts 1438
With my darkling
7 posted 2003-08-12 10:10 PM


I repeat, everything already said, and everything left unsaid.Awesome write!

Jason

inkedgoddess
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-19
Posts 7392
Ohio
8 posted 2003-08-12 10:14 PM


Why can't I remember my name?

because it doesnt really matter afterall, does it?

Aenimal
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350
the ass-end of space
9 posted 2003-08-13 09:41 PM


*bump

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