Love Song of the Lakeside

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Gender Male
Points 575
Reviews 80
By the lake, we watch the day,
Grow old and die away,
And merge into the distance with the waves.
The sun goes down and leaves us there,
Watching us using empty sands,
For the strategies of careless ways.

Within a space of time,
Lovely with an essence’s grin,
We sit, dissipate, and die,
As time flies by like airplanes fly;
All within the flash of a pan.
Pages turned upon blank pages,
Of history we seek to conquer,
With weapons lost to weapons lost,
Immortality before Their love,
For the leaving of the one,
We love to see walk away.

The cat asleep on the windowsill,
Open to the sounds of midnight streets,
Sloping down to an imminent downslope,
Shoulders thin and twisting,
In the night between the bed sheets,
Twisted hearts enraged with death,
Looming in the closet;
All within, all within.

Us alone in the morning,
Rising from a lonely evening,
Spent in the arms of a mistake,
Sent from the capital before us,
Stupid as the year is a year,
And tired that we are still where we are,
As a year is still a year.

Smiling before the vacant cafe,
Smelling the noon-day traffic,
Screeching with pain from overbearing,
Cockroaches,
Lost amid the shining windows,
Cleaned with grease and vinegar;
Poured into our coffee.

Naked in the empty matinee,
Shouting at the screen to stop playing,
Giants watching us in our human,
Nature found in crooked seats,
Pressing against our heat-stroked sides,
Misting in the intermission;
All within, all within.

Snug inside an alien taxi,
Driven by a strange man whom we don’t know,
Chatting with a man whom we don’t know,
In another language that we don’t know,
Jangled music dancing from the tube,
Flashing sounds to us the few,
Who seek only to not care,
For foreign tongues who won’t take,
Enough to be the change we seek.

Stooping in the moisten alley smoking,
Single-packs of cigarettes,
Leaning against a plastic fire-escape,
Staring at the raccoons in the heater,
As kings with tickled noses,
Annoyed by pettiness below us,
Looking down upon the trash;
Of the earth we seek to forget.

Politicking to the politicians,
Talking about their stupid politics,
In the tax-run dump that we frequent,
Lying to their power-starved stomachs,
Aching for the sounds of support,
For the leader they wish to be,
Ebbed on by an insatiable wanting,
To be the middle finger of our hand;
All within, all within.

Drinking in the drunk bar downtown,
In the light within the night,
In the concrete part of town,
The ten-cent beers growing hazy.
Pretty drunk by the sundown,
Walking somewhere wherever we stop,
Falling in the rain washed gutter,
And laughing at the earth upon us,
Giving change to the vagabonds;
Preying upon the vigilantes.

Down by the lake, we are the day,
As we swim into the water,
And froth like fish in salt,
And leap into each other’s arms,
Slipping and splashing and sleeping,
With the air ripping before us.

On the sand we wake in the morning,
With crusted eyes and nowhere minds,
With hair all messed up in the back,
Dogs barking from the gates in the distance,
And gray skies apparent above us;
All within, all within.

We walk home with jackets draped,
Over swollen shoulders we rest our heads,
And pass the trashcans like haze in summer,
Concrete basil lost in Grandma’s salad,
Fed to the rats that will eat it;
And say high and ask them to stay;
All within, all within.

The change we make our last stand,
Like fire at the mouth of the Santa Ana rising,
We lie in the bed and watch,
The window grow pink with the dying sun,
In our arms with hands clenched grabbing skin,
And wait to do it all again;
All within, all within.
"This is our decision,
to live fast and die young...
Yeah it's overwhelming,
but what else can we do?
Get jobs in offices and
wake up for the morning commute?

The models will have children,
we'll get a divorce,
find some more models;
everything must run its course!

Fated to Pretend




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Gender Female
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Reviews 67
Love song? This is a twisted love STORY. But hey, i thought it was good. A little confusing at times but those parts sound like personal refrences. I saw the name, and went "Bolsievic wrote a love song????" Upon reading it, you find that you did not write a love song, you wrote YOUR love song. Thag is the best part. I think you mean to play us out a scene, which really worked. I just didnt understand half of what i was reading. (Thats all on me. I prefer simply worded things. The complications accented it nicelonce I sifted through it) i think the best part is how you really have to concentrate. And concentrating pushes out things you did not see before. I really liked this, and I must say that it is well thought out. Good job.

Vee
"And when you're out there,
without care, yeah,
I was out of touch!
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough,
I just knew too much."




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Gender Male
Points 14918
Reviews 384
Hi Bolsh! ^^ Here to review.

I'm going to say that I agree with Vous on most things- namely that this poem wasn't just a lovestory, that it was your love story. The problem with so many love poems is that they're all the same, and it's a love poem for the general public. All about shaky hands, sweaty palms, etc, etc... Thank you for not making this one like that. xD

Everything in this poem is yours, everything explains you and what you wanted to get across in the poem. It was beautifully written for the most part, and honestly, I was entranced by it. There was so much originality in it, so much good, fresh imagery. It's what I look for in a poem, and sadly, I don't see it very often. (Not to say that I never see it, but you know what I mean.)

There were a few lines that I was a little iffy about, though (not very many, but still):

We sit, dissipate, and die,
As time flies by like airplanes fly;


These lines were good, but the last line was a little iffy for me. Time flying is a bit cliche, but then you sort of twisted it to make it somewhat original. Still, there was something that I didn't like about it. It might just be that comparing things that fly to airplanes is cliche, too, but I don't know. It could be just me. xD

Politicking to the politicians,
Talking about their stupid politics,


These lines just seemed a bit too repetitive to me. A lot of words that are both similar and pertain around the same thing. It just ruined the flow, made this bit seem a tad clunky and it just didn't seem to fit with the rest of the poem. I would consider rephrasing or rewording it a bit and see what happens. Once again, though, that could be just me. It's your poem, after all, feel free to take my advice/opinions, or leave them alone. xD

Other than that, though, as I said before, I really did like this poem. It was beautifully written, with tons of fresh imagery, and ontop of that, it was hooking. The way it was written made me read all through it- and it was a pretty long poem, so it's definitely a good thing that I enjoyed it the entire way through. xD

Good work and keep writing,
~~Ish.
Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurl.

got trans?




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Points 7522
Reviews 229
Hello! I *liked* this poem a few days ago because I read it, loved it, and unfortunately couldn't be bothered to nitpick it all ( it is a bit of an epic). Now I feel that I should make a bit of an effort. The reason I loved this? Because I could just tell that the words had poured out of your heart. They brimmed with emotion, and flowed so beautifully. Most of the imagery was simple yet powerful and thought-provoking. I agree with Isha that this poem was so original: most love poetry nowadays is soppy, but this was totally the opposite. Like I said, I can just tell that, figuritively, your heart wrote this, not your head. It wasn't just some expressions which you suddenly decided to put to paper. Thought and emotion have been weaved throughout this poem. I'm rambling now! I wish I could *like* this again! I hope you get a feature: I really do. Well done!
~ Amelia
( Just to add, please ignore my awful spelling. I rely on spellcheck and the YWS reply section doesn't have that option!lol)




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Gender Male
Points 575
Reviews 80
Thank you guys very much, such kind words should only be repaid with unmitigated scorn.

Just kidding.
"This is our decision,
to live fast and die young...
Yeah it's overwhelming,
but what else can we do?
Get jobs in offices and
wake up for the morning commute?

The models will have children,
we'll get a divorce,
find some more models;
everything must run its course!

Fated to Pretend



Writing is like love: the real thing is a lot less romantic
— dragonfphoenix