|04-26-2013, 01:54 PM||#1|
So-Called New-Age(d) Poet
Join Date: Aug 2007
Thereís Nothing As Silent As A Cry For Help
If someone calls me, Iím busy puking all the stress
thatís been making me boring and an unstable mess.
I cannot provide you that typical silliness
when Iím nearly forgetting how to laugh;
canít even afford to burst in a self-centered whine
when I am too busy resting or saving myself
and that would ruin that wine-drenched evening with your friends.
Your youth is basically all I have
and you shouldnít be wasting it with my mental health.
I donít know anyone who, in the past, hasnít dealt
with profound pains that left them at the bottom of wells,
but, in the end, all those shits were outgrown.
So if you want a smile but I am completely blank
or if I sound like a dick while trying to be frank,
leave me alone; Iíll eventually cry for your hand.
Iím not going anywhere on my own.
At the weekend (the weekend!), Iíll just desperately
try to get fucked up like we all used to
before I put myself through this shit
and thereís no starting slowly (although I should).
Iím partying like Iím trying to revive the past
everyoneís still living on; stuck on the future they dread:
fatter, slower, grumpier and, more importantly,
getting drunk much faster than they all get.
Fuck I donít think I ever saw the sun rise this year;
I canít even get past five without falling asleep
or painting the pavement with the supperís cheeseburger.
I may even be failing at becoming a better lover.
I should be in my prime and not always worn out,
losing grasp of the youth I cannot live without.
I need that you, please, do not lose faith in me;
I can and will turn this downer around.
I am fueled by bad habits.
I was not born to settle.
I want to fuck like rabbits,
not be shackled and handled
by these social duties
that are choking my time.
ďHereís a bottle. Now use it
slapdash Ďtil you feel fine!Ē
but Iím still nauseated.
I need to get some sleep
before wrecking your night
and spill vomit on your feet.
Fuck, I canít get this right Ė
this old concept of fun
cannot be felt again
while I keep being outdone
|04-26-2013, 05:03 PM||#3|
Buckethead's Right Hand
Join Date: Mar 2011
Music is getting sadder and sadder these days. Good news for me.
|05-07-2013, 04:06 PM||#4|
this too shall pass
Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: Des Moines
Thanks for the welcome back, Andre! Glad to be back posting/reading. Okay, I really like the first section. I thought it ended with a punch, which is excellent. I think the second and third stanzas of the second section reads really awkwardly. The second ones flow seems to be off, but that could just be me. The third stanza, while I know you often write bluntly/clearly (and I do too, and I like it), seems to be too blunt for the piece. It makes it seem...immature compared to the rest of the piece, if that makes sense. The first and fourth stanzas were really quality, though (particularly the fourth). The ending is fantastic, Andre. I think the shift in structure works perfectly. Speeds up the piece exactly where it needs to be sped up. I love that. You're a good writer, sir.
|05-09-2013, 06:33 PM||#5|
Join Date: Dec 2007
i like this a lot. really blunt for the most part, but not everything needs to be hidden behind all sorts of wordy acrobatics. the change of pace in the last stanza worked well. your title was pretty clever also, props.
i can relate to most, if not all of this... it's quite a shitty feeling. reminds me of my senior year of high school.
i don't need your fucking sympathy
lucky no. 4
Last edited by Dregen : 05-09-2013 at 06:35 PM.