Some Things Never Change
- Lightning Rod
- Posts: 5211
- Joined: August 15th, 2004, 6:57 pm
- Location: between my ears
- Contact:
Some Things Never Change
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.
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.
- stilltrucking
- Posts: 20646
- Joined: October 24th, 2004, 12:29 pm
- Location: Oz or somepLace like Kansas
- hester_prynne
- Posts: 2363
- Joined: June 26th, 2006, 12:35 am
- Location: Seattle, Washington
- Contact:
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
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
- Lightning Rod
- Posts: 5211
- Joined: August 15th, 2004, 6:57 pm
- Location: between my ears
- Contact:
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."
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."
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"...
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