Psylynx, you know I love your writing. Brilliant. And I don't think I need to say any more than that.
ZanyPlebeian...sometimes cliches are bad, but sometimes they work. And when they work, they do so for a reason.
2-5-06
I.
We never read the shapes of words anymore,
nor the succulent-smooth taste
nor their echoey sound in mighty cathedrals
nor their color, black and infinitely warm
and sinful
nor the author on the other end
snapping keys while naked, after a hard day’s corrosion.
II.
Religion twists its wild dance
through the minds of the torch-bearers,
a wave of time and routine
melds us to our role, enslaves our smiles,
and seepy, bezoomny brains.
III.
We never read each other
only our truly capitalist li(v)es,
A Clockwork Orange for each,
the selfishness that vanquishes artists, poets
and the free people
of the resistance.
The selfishness that casts countries lonely
that paints our blood, that burns our beings
into the lonely mind,
fathomless and pathetic.
I just want to feel our true colors
And live beside the smiling mind...
IV.
there were times when truth was fuzzy,
and culture a screaming religion.
V.
I live in a nuclear age,
evidenced in the clouds we light and color orange
and I live with the love I give myself
through service.
Let me massage you.
Let me please you.
Please, I am nothing without your love.
I am a poet, read my soul
that I’ve humbled into quiet terror. Humility is how we see.
VI.
It is a high mountain pass,
where I stand and see the world shining,
and feel its smooth timbres, kiss the peppermint wind
and dance through the waterfall atmosphere, water channeling down the crevices
of my old, old-world body
that tastes like the winds of Israel.
It is a high mountain pass
where I stand, and witness the terror
of selfish capitalism, a life pledged to no wise and luscious service,
with precise and full eyes
that peer into the distinct and distant future,
where I feel the quiet and amazing bliss
of a life lived for this carvy art,
shaking Love out of The Fountain of Words.
And so, remembering too my birth,
and my genetic link back to the first awkward, eager life
and the people of the Melting Pot,
who chiseled the music of my life,
and grandmother and grandfather
and my connection to the wonderful Earth,
I pledge myself to this place of pulsating compassion
in the ultimate Multiverse.
Psylynx, you know I love your writing. Brilliant. And I don't think I need to say any more than that.
ZanyPlebeian...sometimes cliches are bad, but sometimes they work. And when they work, they do so for a reason.
"I'm sorry I used words you particularly, despise, would you care to give me a list of the ones you personally hate so I can avoid using those concepts in the future? "
It's not that I hate them. It's that they are cliche and overdone.
ever read A Clockwork Orange? No. Bezoomny is a word used in it. It's beautiful, so I used it.
The stuff that can be misconstrued as philosophy is basically all in one part. But it's not philosophy, and it's not political, either, for anyone who thinks about dubbing it that. It's just that...it's the shape of our society, and because of it, our dreams and ambitions can separate us from other people, and we can live in our own cruel lives. It's lonely. That's not philosophy, it's fact, it's drama, it's life, it's tragedy. I'm sorry I used words you particularly, despise, would you care to give me a list of the ones you personally hate so I can avoid using those concepts in the future?
"And so, remembering too my birth"...that's not really good. I've tried that humility stuff before, you've seen that before. It's not nice or even original, I've thought of cutting it. I haven't, because...shrug. It flows better. It's my own cliche for a reason.
thanks for commenting.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly:
The Good
"We never read the shapes of words anymore,
nor the succulent-smooth taste
nor their echoey sound in mighty cathedrals
nor their color, black and infinitely warm
and sinful"
Well-said. Orginal, draws me into the poem.
"And so, remembering too my birth,
and my genetic link back to the first awkward, eager life"
A nice dose of humility.
The Bad
"We never read each other
only our truly capitalist li(v)es,
A Clockwork Orange for each,
the selfishness that vanquishes artists, poets
and the free people
of the resistance.
The selfishness that casts countries lonely
that paints our blood, that burns our beings
into the lonely mind,
fathomless and pathetic.
I just want to feel our true colors
And live beside the smiling mind... "
Uh-huh. Do you need to rub this into our faces? You could at least try to be creative. "capitalist" "selfishness" "resistance" ... Why don't you write the philosophy paper you're trying to get at rather than a poem?
"where I stand, and witness the terror
of selfish capitalism, a life pledged to no wise and luscious service, "
Ho-hum. Heard it all before. Cliched.
The Ugly
"bezoomny"
Eh??
Nice poem. Cut the preachy and quirky (not the good kind, mind you) stuff. I think you're on to something.
okay, i would like you to say that i enjoyed reading this poem and i'm sure it'd be even better if i sat here and pieced each phrase apart, wasting hours about what it actually means. but i feel that i don't need to do that, because certain phrases and words stuck out, and they got the point across in a flurry of images that supplied me with a handful of seconds of europhia. i must admit, i usually count that as the mark of a wonderful poet.
only one problem, which can or can not be, whether you choose to overlook it or not. in the third stanza, you used "minds" at the end of phrases, or lines. i usually mutter poetry to myself when i read it, to gain the rhythm, i suppose (so i'm already getting odd stares) and then when you kept using mind, i actually said aloud "stop saying mind at the end of lines. RAWR!". yeah. i'm sufficently embarressed. 
great job, though. really.
Beautiful. The last long stanza was especially cool. I don't really know what else to say. I suck a crits. So... yeah. Great job though, I love this.
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