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Open Poetry #12
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Saturday. edited since first posted
| Open Poetry #12 |
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Saturday. edited since first posted |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland 
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Must it come to this…? Summoning my attention when it is immersed in some imagery war. Nursing joyful wounds, I stutter to your call, with youth twisting between my legs. Regarding your-self, though Not from my eyes for I could not stand so, fortified in pride. I dog your shadow as a personality; Several shades from my own. This family trick I mimic so well. Saturday brings but blankets dredged through the filth. Always I bathed in cold logic, absolved in its sheaths, to feast on the opiate of infancy. Crown me pauper of Sodom; the forgotten city of excrement, where I may keep company with blood eyed strangers, all figments of my sanity, together we drink of the guilt I extrude! This landscape etched of charcoal can it help but soil my countenance? perhaps not, for the future is present in pseudo socialism. Every Saturday arrives like clockwork, but its history is mine to change. ====================================== THis poem has been edited since first posted, to be less of a self pity rant.. now includes happen ending  "The only way to gain approval Is by exploiting the very thing that cheapens me" N.Jones [This message has been edited by brian madden (edited 02-18-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 brian madden - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
You always make me read your stuff three and four times over....until it hit me that it sounds like you're at home and someone had the nerve to get you up WAY too early and on the wrong side of the bed, to boot! I'm probably wrong, but that's what came through on the 4th read! Well done! |
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VAS Member Rara Avis
since 2000-11-16
Posts 7450Oregon |
Such an infectious smile on your face...truly an oxymoron to what fills this page. Perhaps that smile is miles away from today. Strong piece. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Nursing joyful wounds, I respond with youth twisting between my legs. Witnessing your-self, though Not from my eyes for I could not stand so, fortified in pride. I walk your shadow as a personality; Several shades from my own. This family trick I mimic so well. ========================== ahh...my dear sweet poetic genius has returned... HEY YOU!!!!!! MISS YA ... no one writes inner conflict, torment of soul and angst like you do Bri-babes... very cool write of inner struggle and conclict of generations and our childhood's ghosts and demons (am I even close)  ...if not...I'll buy the tylenol *smile* great to see your name here my poetic prophet love ya Bri-gator eve As sure as God made wine you can't wrap your arms around a memory In the dark for me youre the candle flame that flickers to life ~Mission UK~ [This message has been edited by Janet Marie (edited 02-17-2001).] |
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