Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

some things aren't going to change
when we wake up tomorrow morning
you will still be a bitch and I will still be a fugitive

you will still be living in a world of squares and tiles
and I will still be writing, which nobody recognizes
as work

you've probably already quit reading this by now
or you are at least just skimming it
because you are deaf to me and blind
or something I've said has offended you

or you don't think it's poetry
just because it's broken into lines

maybe you are right
maybe it never was poetry
maybe it never was music
maybe it never was love

maybe we were only in love with ourselves
and thought is was the other
and it has taken us five years to smother
our intentions and excuse our bad poetry

let me be more prosaic
I'll still break it into lines
I would be more elegaic
but it's a cold meal on which we dine

you are sick on your stomach
and I am sick on mine
for different reasons
though
ones I can't define

yes, I'll hide my iambics
and conceal my dirty rhymes
and think about all the times
I tried to touch you
and no
and no
and 'no's, like prose
broken into lines

am I missing something here?
no, you are missing something
only a fool bent on loneliness
would turn down a hot oil
massage

here is the message:
the message is in the massage
not in a barrage of fan mail
or tilted sympathy
or empty empathy

pardon me, I've lapsed into verse
again
it's a curse I have, you see
yes, I know, you don't think it's love
and you don't think it's poetry.

poetry is repetition
and when we get up tomorrow
you'll still be a bitch and I'll still be a fugitive.

we dance
this dance
we nurse our wounds

beats me
but it reminds me of a song or two or three

bitches and fugitives make the world go round.....

A song of love is a sad song
Hi Lily Hi Lily Hi low......

H

like the romp here, as with much of your work, I'll be reading along and chuckle out loud, or give a "right on, brother" to myself....I like the way you have woven the personal stuff from relationships with the act of writing, definitely a marriage of sorts, be it a match made in heaven or a creature from hell, a union nonetheless....well done clay

Well, I for one am encouraged, since I too have been known to write prosetry and break it into lines. Poetry eludes me anyway.

Why do I picture Churchill insulting a detractor when I read parts of this?

hest, hi-lilly to you too

thanks saw, if I elicited a chuckle of realization, then I've done my job.

nazz,
Lady Whatever Her Name Was
said to Churchill, "sir, you are drunk."
Churchill says, 'yes madame, and you are ugly. And when I wake up tomorrow morning, I will be sober and you will still be ugly."

Ah yes. Churchillian. I knew it sounded familiar.

this is brilliant! i LOVE it. prose with line breaks or poetry in paragraphs...who cares. what i care about is being touched (oh, hah, no pun intended)...touch my soul with word paintings, is what i mean. of course i don't object to other kinds of touching, but this is not what i meant here. so, i wanted to say... i heard you. i heard the longing and the hurt and the frustration. the beatles said, "all we need is love"...