all day i write
little diddies in my head
trying to extract
a meaningful line
of exploding emotion
like a rusty nail from
a bare foot
all day i write
these fucking diddies in my head
but ive lost my words
these letters used to
be a symphony
now i play scrabble
sifting through the
english language
like a homeless 49er
all day i write
little diddies
which perform their own
rendition of the polka in my head
and they travel infinitely
on the subway
through the canals
of my mind
but just as im about to give birth
to a twenty one pound epiphany
they pull a houdini
because my mind is infested
with sea deep snakeholes
and before i can find any ink
the diddy is lost
catching all sorts of air
flying out of my ears
and turning to dirt
but i would eat that dirt all day
if it promised to deliver a medicine man
that could make it rain beautiful words
for one whole week
granting an anecdote
that could break this code
that could cure this silence
instead im left with white lines
white is nothing more than
snowmen playing patty cake
with dead eyes in december
empty. emotionless. heartless.
i am as empty as those coal eyes
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- Amy
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- "Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real." "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt." "Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?" "It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." -Margery Williams
10 comments:
wow i really love this poem... tons of great imagery and details. really good job!!
Love the imagery in your free verse. I really liked the part about the rust nail in the beginning.
nice use of allusion, like the line about the gold sifters, for example. A poet in our midst.
The imagery was awesome. The part about the rusty nail and foot was great.
That was a bit nasty about the rusty nail and the foot, lol. Otherwise good job.
I really loved reading this...it had a ton of unique descriptions and you used some very interesting language. You're abstract but clear at the same time (if that makes sense). My favorite section is the one that starts off: "but just as im about to give birth to a twenty one pound epiphany they pull a houdini..."
You definitely have a way with words my friend, I can't wait to see more!
i think this is how i felt before i had to write this poem... i love how you use fuck so early into the poem too, made me smile a little bit...
this is definitely a deep poem. Your comparisons and use of description really make the poem important. great job
I like this stanza the best:
"but just as im about to give birth
to a twenty one pound epiphany
they pull a houdini
because my mind is infested
with sea deep snakeholes
and before i can find any ink
the diddy is lost
catching all sorts of air
flying out of my ears
and turning to dirt"
You write so beautifully! I think poetry is something you are strong at.
Your way with words is just amazing, i feel like you are a real poet and this is from a publication
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