What a Mess

KwyjiboKwyjibo Posts: 662
edited December 2004 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
I am an orphan
I look discretely over at you
and you are a wire
with circuits on fire
melting your wings
that are held on by glue
and you are the horseman
with gilded swords
that puncture and wound
don't look so angry
you already had me
down on all fours
chained to tasks I can't do
so pick up your infant
and kiss him goodbye
and I'll do what I do
my job is to end it
there's no circumstances
I haven't thought through
so pass me the baby,
and give me the pictures of him I took
my mind is a frown now
with circles and clowns that are looking for you
so wait in the closet, till this feeling passes
and I do something I don't want to do
The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway, is that its you, and that you're standing in the doorway.

I write down good reasons to freeze to death in my spiral ring notebook. But in the long tresses of your hair--I am a babbling brook.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • ISNISN Posts: 1,700
    ah....sweet emancipation....if I weren't free.....I couldn't read poems like this......viva la revolucion!!!!!!

    need I say more?
    ....they're asking me to prove why I should be allowed to stay with my baby in Australia, because I'm mentally ill......and they think I should leave......
  • Ms. HaikuMs. Haiku Washington DC Posts: 7,275
    I like how the sounds flow from line to line, and that what draws me in to reread it for clarity.
    There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
    The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
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