Inevitable Dread

God give strength to this
sloppy-tongued git, this
avatar of awkward lying
semi-conscious in the purgated morning mud.

Here I stand,
shuffling, stumbling, and fumble footed
down these bleak angling corridors.
What ungainly interaction awaits?
What stupidity will tumble from my lips?

That uncanny,
indefinable terror will set in
when our bumbling words collide.

Or perhaps an old lady will spring
suddenly into my path and
after detangling our splayed and fallen limbs,
I’ll stand up,
face lit red, hating everything,
and see she’s dead.

Nice word use, though I have no idea what this is eplaining. Perhaps its a troubled person possessed by untamable anger? Or a murder? I like the beginning the most ^_^ Also the end too.

Or perhaps an old lady will spring
suddenly into my path and
after detangling our splayed and fallen limbs,
I’ll stand up,
face lit red, hating everything,
and see she’s dead.

Nice I LOVE THIS PART! ^_^



Even though I suck at writting poetry I do know the ones I like when I see them ^_^


BRAVO!!!!!

Nice, though I don't really understand where you're coming from but I think I have an idea =).

Hello!

I love the way the two people above me weren't sure what you were trying to say. It means, in a round-a-bout way, that you're doing something right as a writer. I too didn't understand the images and concepts that you drew at first glance, but I went back and read and looked again. I'm glad I did,too. I felt rewarded. I felt like I'd learnt something important instead of reading a poem where the writer had shoved everything down my neck. That, in itself, is liable to cause a severe choking hazard too.

Loved this line:

Here I stand,

shuffling, stumbling, and fumble footed

down these bleak angling corridors.

The image of both the speaker and their surrounds is conveyed effectively in very little words. Good job in handling that.

This is probably my favourite line as it relates back to the title well:

That uncanny,

indefinable terror will set in

when our bumbling words collide.

And of course, the ending was both unexpected and incredibly fitting:

I’ll stand up,

face lit red, hating everything,

and see she’s dead.

Very rarely does reading something make me laugh out loud. Kudos.

I'm sorry but I must comment on this again, as it provides an excellent example of the kinds of literal interpretations that are best left to ferment inside the sallow progenitors from which they were wrought.

This is not a hard concept to understand. At least, I say this in the expectation that my own interpretations are infallible, but here it is: This is that adventure into the world of social possibilities, that always begins with the uncertainties of what could possibly happen in the given space of interactions. There's no real way of delving into the possibilities of what may or may not transpire. Mayhaps you make a fool of yourself, be it of tongue, or physical nerve. Or maybe you snuff an old lady in your awkwardness. These are my translations, but hey, it sure beats: "Huh? I don't get it, but it's probably about this happenstance that fits into my narrow interpretation of things."

By the way, I love this piece, and I am using it as an altar upon which to place my ventings, for which I apologize.