Applesauce
October 10th, 2004, 02:57 AM
hmm haven't posted in a while. this is the first poem i've written that actually means something to me, not like the standardized bullshit/infatuation/sappiness i wrote a few years back. of late i've been reading Yeats so the slightly relaxed rhyming couplet scheme is on my mind.
________________________
words meant the stars and skies
to me, i ate the beautiful lies
and now i can't find the food
i've swallowed, it's already in me good
and secure, feasting on my lungs and heart,
luxuriating through my veins and art
if i stick a finger down my throat
maybe these elderly will come out and mope
that they aren't believed by me
that is not lungs and heart and veins and qi
but i smile at this tired fairytale ending
because it never ends, this ring
now i close my eyes and think with what can't think
and believe what it can't say, and on the brink
of falling i finally fall, spent
to the heavens of love, and trust, and silent
so that i would willingly eat new creatures formed of letters
that could destroy me while being treasured
i write i will never make that mistake again
to trust happiness growing from pain
i write feeling is only reality
that exists when words are not to be
and i write feeling can be undone
when words and feeling are one
as in a poem.
my only hope, my poison
that my mind will drink again greedily
and my body dance with gladly,
for maybe this once poison will not be,
and words will break down its walls and me.
________________________
words meant the stars and skies
to me, i ate the beautiful lies
and now i can't find the food
i've swallowed, it's already in me good
and secure, feasting on my lungs and heart,
luxuriating through my veins and art
if i stick a finger down my throat
maybe these elderly will come out and mope
that they aren't believed by me
that is not lungs and heart and veins and qi
but i smile at this tired fairytale ending
because it never ends, this ring
now i close my eyes and think with what can't think
and believe what it can't say, and on the brink
of falling i finally fall, spent
to the heavens of love, and trust, and silent
so that i would willingly eat new creatures formed of letters
that could destroy me while being treasured
i write i will never make that mistake again
to trust happiness growing from pain
i write feeling is only reality
that exists when words are not to be
and i write feeling can be undone
when words and feeling are one
as in a poem.
my only hope, my poison
that my mind will drink again greedily
and my body dance with gladly,
for maybe this once poison will not be,
and words will break down its walls and me.