escalation towards the arrow of confusion

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by mortdesinos, Jul 22, 2008.

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  1. mortdesinos

    mortdesinos Well-Known Member

    And then there are the days,
    every now and then,
    every day now,
    when I wonder..
    where does life get its meaning?
    Maybe I need to look up for the answer, ignoring the thunder..
    The hawks swerve through the current, waning and weaning
    The Red Robbins sing and chatter
    The chickadees cry, but they can't be heard
    Maybe they are chanting along, alone.. But with certainty the latter.
    Too much commotion, too much for sure,
    until sleep enthralls the world, throwing a black tarp over it all.
    I can move within the tarp, but only by plunging through my brain's intricate wiring.
    My mind is a jungle gym. I can climb, but I can't escape.
    Between perception and reality exists a fine line which prompts deciphering.
    My temples ache with every thinking moment, every moving moment, every moment, knowing the continuing cycle and circles of life may never come to a halt. My heart reverberates in my chest, stifling.
    But I must keep going.
    I can't let the wind wisp me into oblivion's coffin, with my body showing.
    I must think, but first I must react. We go along for the ride.
    And that's right, I am talking to her, well she's talking to me. The conversation is free flowing.
    “After I forget why, I think I might have rekindled my knowledge, but it's too late now,” I sigh.
    “Relax,” I think about telling myself, but there's no point. We are already enjoying ourselves.
    And then it's back to step one. I haven't even reached the first square yet- I don't know where it is. I am trying to find my way through the desert, a land I cannot take in. There's supposed to be light. Where's the light? What am I in this world? Who thinks what, and who cares but me. Searching fatigues me, and dreaming distorts my mind, because my subconscious journeys are more real than my stick and stem life. How can I appreciate everything I've been given when I don't understand it?
  2. thedeafmusician

    thedeafmusician Staff Alumni

    I'm wondering whether this is poetry or prose. or some form of a prose poem, lol. To answer the last question, even though its probably rhetorical, I think that by living, you learn more and understand more, and appreciate things more. But that's just my point of view.

  3. mortdesinos

    mortdesinos Well-Known Member

    I understand why you have that conception. Some parts of the writing rhymes, while other parts do not. The writing exemplifies the way I felt speaking to a young woman on the train, wondering why she bothered to communicate with me with interest.

    An elementary school teacher once told me that a poem should either rhyme throughout or not rhyme at all. I still disagree with her opinion. But, nevertheless, I believe that this writing is closer to prose than poetry, and that's why I sectioned it under creative writing.
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