Another Cup of Hormones, Please

it's idle in here.
the sounds and smells
outnumber the sights
there is little left to forget

there is nothing to fear
no thought compells
some sleepless nights
motion paralyzed in awe

i was living, before
and now am dead to thought
so how I remember
Is a mystery.

Naught to restore
to restore to naught
i've smothered the last ember
That threatened me

so many words
that speak of hate
who needs those sounds
that speak of love?

i see, i heard,
hallucinate,
and little grounds
i gain, slowly.

the ground looks bigger
when you're closer

when you haven't written poetry in a long time
It doesn't come as easily
Like fragments of glass have lodged themselves
In your brain
For no reason at all.
And it disrupts your rhyming verse.
And makes you feel quite eccentric.
Then you clear your throat
And go on.

i knew i had a happy end
i went into this with one in mind
i know i find the light sometime
i never remain hopeless.

i wish i had more mind to spend
alas, those useless words i pined
and wasted. if you know how hard it was to rhyme...
i hang three feet down, and ropeless.
--October 19, 2004

Posted by Florence on Sunday, June 18, 2006 at 10:54 PM | Permalink