while I am waiting to be profound
please allow be to be clever
while I bide the hours, search
for buried honesty, let me tease you
with tantalizing trinkets of pure energy
tempt you with seductive baubles that dance,
flirt like bawdy coquettes, let me trifle you
while I hunt for words to make you swoon
'til I find the lost city of rawboned emotion
that crumples the knee caps, let my petty
larceny go unpunished, applaud this paltry
exercise to stave the wolves of atrophy
Fitness
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- Posts: 251
- Joined: June 1st, 2008, 11:02 pm
- Location: on my boat in Canton, Baltimore
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Re: Fitness
odd that we're still connected in some way, I wrote this today...
this poetry is not the psychoanalysis I did
of the self-important asshole who attacked my friend Dino
or the metaphor of the caged bird
or the one flying free
this poetry did not bubble up naturally like effervescence
the way I always hope
or was it ripped from a pulsating heart to satisfy
an audiences need for titillation
this poetry was not conceived from glyphs or images
not gleaned from the imaginings and experiences of others
nor a divine manifesto channeled through a human mouthpiece
this poetry is an obstacle
a gauntlet I still must walk
each stone and stick etched
with all my conscious thought
every conciliatory action offered up in sacrifice
to a judgmental superego
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
I know what you're thinking, Steve, "Hey Scott, don't flatter yourself"
I'm just sayin'
this poetry is not the psychoanalysis I did
of the self-important asshole who attacked my friend Dino
or the metaphor of the caged bird
or the one flying free
this poetry did not bubble up naturally like effervescence
the way I always hope
or was it ripped from a pulsating heart to satisfy
an audiences need for titillation
this poetry was not conceived from glyphs or images
not gleaned from the imaginings and experiences of others
nor a divine manifesto channeled through a human mouthpiece
this poetry is an obstacle
a gauntlet I still must walk
each stone and stick etched
with all my conscious thought
every conciliatory action offered up in sacrifice
to a judgmental superego
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
I know what you're thinking, Steve, "Hey Scott, don't flatter yourself"
I'm just sayin'
We should not mind if on our ear there fell. Some less of cunning, more of oracle...Thoreau
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