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may 18 (Free verse) by Bill Z Bub You seem
so tired.
squeaking, like a mouse, a floorboard,
or a surprise.
Your regretful head bowed
and fragrant
with fear, invisible.
the silver nimbus of scissors rummaged
from the chipped kitchen cupboard,
held up with thin fingers.
"It's time for a change", you say,
sonorous and famed
illusions falling in fire-engine braids,
clipped
free
from decadence.
Beyond the bug-proof mesh,
a throaty hail of dawn
draws you out,
damp-eyed and frail
to the yard's simple square.
pink toes lap the loomed grass and dew,
one arm cross your brow,
blinking a challenge
to the blue
sunlight, wrapped
in gauze like brilliance.
And when next you lean
against the fridge,
you'll pause in wonder at the records
of someone young, and drunk.
you sneered like a punk,
lived fast,
eyes smudged, in ripped fishnets
and nose ring.
Never meant to last,
and that's the whole thing.
Up the ladder:
A Fucking Kinky Homecoming
Down the ladder:
Ctrl freak (Alt+ version)
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 8.111111
Posted: May 18, 2003 5:41 PM PDT; Last modified: May 19, 2003 7:12 PM PDTWeighted score: 6.5555553 Overall Rank: 635 Comments:
I'm bringing the answer to your question over here. No.
My am/fm in the truck doesn't work. Traditionally, Rock, Rap I've recently become hooked on jazz and my favorite classical piece thus far is The 1812 Overature by Tchaikovsky and the New York Philharmonic. But I seem to have The Crash test dummies on my mind lately. Gawd. Paki's right. I am a goof. It's good to be a goof. later.
"it's all in the past." Would kick out the bottom if it was " and the whole thing was that" or only that, or just that. I loved it all the way until that.
Yeah, I'm not satisfied with the ending. Or the beginning, for that matter. I added the final two lines on the fifth edit here, because it needed something to sew it up.
Hmm.
Work it, work it, Own it....
You draw rather well by the way.
Thank ya kindly! But I've changed it again! What do you think now?
Fuck yeah! drop the (lived fast) and let it off the leash!!!
yes i like the structure,
and rhyming fingers and nimbus is genius well done
Bar a few there is some fine poems on the current entries today, this is no exception and the delivery of each line has a message and I loved it.
But do punks really sneer?
Let's find out. I'll take 30 punks and divide them into two groups and... ah, forget it. Of course punks sneer! It's what they do. They sneer.
I remember reading your poems a long time ago and though they were inspiring you REALLY are the cat in silk pajamas now. I'll keep this real: this rocks
Thanks! Was it really that long ago? It's been less than a year since I discovered this site. You make it sound like I was here before the turn of the century. :-)
enigmatic, but fresh and a little dark.. . good poem though. wording is very fresh and appealing.
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I hope someone out there will get it, but dammit it's my own fault for being so damn obscure sometimes. I've already edited this 4 times tonight, so come back later, I'll have cleared up a few mysteries I hope.
But in the meantime, I hope the words are enjoyable on their own, even if the larger meaning is encrypted. I'm trying to find an equilibrium. Some words I use for the beauty and cadence, and strange levels of meaning. Style/content... and even a bit of form,
Simple language rearranged into strange orders, juxtaposed with shards of an image, arranged and ordered. I read it aloud and try to feel the rhythm... the sound, the images... And someday I hope to succeed on all levels. Someday. ****
(Was that pretentious enough?
I wish I knew her reasoning too.