A Poem About WordsA Word on WordsI’ve never been very good with words.I spend so much time searching for the right ones,For that one perfect phrase to describe a feeling.Slippery as a sunfish it incessantly escapes me,Or gets hooked upon my lip.It’s difficult to say what I mean,Let alone mean what I say.And words make it so much harder;Ineffectual, impersonal and imprecise as they are.I might say I love a steaming pot of tea in the morning,Or a big cozy sweater on a winter’s day.But sweaters and tea don’t quite add up to how I feel about you.You might say a rose is pretty,Or a sunset.But I am hardly a flower or a sinking star.I wish there were a way to pinpoint these feelings,To let you know exactly what they are.Instead I tread water futilely,Drowning in the vagueness of language;I simply choose silence.Perhaps worst of all about words,Is that they can lose their luster so devastatingly quickly.I want meaning to permeate time; to last forever
Night Windows !!PLEASE READ AND CRIT!!Night WindowsWake up. Lie in bed. Stare at the ceiling. A crack runs across the center of it spider webs decorate the edges. I should fix that sometime. The clock ticks. It wants me to move, it wants me to go. It whispers in my ear it reminds me of you. Its breath doesn't tickle my cheek the way yours used to, though.Tick, tick, tick. Get up, you're lazy, get going. Out of bed. Two tooth brushes blue and pink. Take the pink one. Brush my teeth. Spit. Look in the mirror. Two reflections, but I'm alone. Spit. Look in the mirror. You're gone but you're not. I can see the wall we painted green in the spring behind me. You're in the pigment. Your laugh is hiding in the cheap plaster walls. The way you accidentally got p
Men"Men don't write things!Men kill wild boar and the blood splatter spells out what they want to say!Men don't even own computers!They live in lavishly decorated caves and eat raw meat while smoking cigars and playing guitars and are constantly walking away from explosions without looking back.Real men work out by strangling nazis and saving orphans, kittens and women from various threats.They also all fly jets in their spare time and go skydiving without a parachute, surviving the fall every time by punching death in the face, thus coming away unharmed.Men never speak.They communicate purely through fist fights."Was talking to a friend about what a man is.Sometimes I laugh at my own jokes.This was one of those times.Thought I'd share.
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