Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by BelovedDreamer, Aug 20, 2006.

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  1. BelovedDreamer

    BelovedDreamer Well-Known Member

    I can’t take this anymore
    I can’t I won’t
    Uncomfortable silences
    Say it!
    Just say it.
    I know what I have done to myself.
    I think I know what I have done to you.
    I cannot pretend to know what I might yet do.
    I have scars up my wrists
    Not so deep as I intended
    But still incriminating.
    I have secrets now.
    What have I been taught?
    What have I been taught?
    The value of silence.
    The true measure of loss.
    I have known NOTHING!
    My words become my enemies
    By poetry betraying the constant pattern of my thoughts
    My hands like disembodied Fascists
    Marching to a tune not my own
    The rhythmic song of the republic.
    What have I done?
    What. Have. I. Done?
    I cannot undo this.
    It is too late.
    For all that I’ve gained
    And the changes I’ve made
    If I could bend my life
    I would break it
    And snap out that piece
    The year or so that stands between me
    And the person I recognize as myself.
    I am allergic to emotion.
    Searching through the mess of papers
    And dirty clothes on my bedroom floor
    I see a picture
    Or find a small note in hurried handwriting
    And my lungs close up
    Chest tight and eyes watering.
    Something in me tries to reject this invasion
    This emotional incursion
    This threat to self.
    I have learned my lesson the hard way
    If I never reach out
    If I learn not to look back
    If I try to coach myself in the hardening of a heart
    Than I might just make it through,
    But I won’t be the same.
    Something will be lost.
    But I’ll be alive.
    I don’t know which one is worse.
    I will never be able to undo this
    And my hands ache from trying to rebuild this crumbling structure.
    I feel like I’m playing dominos with knives
    Trying to get all the points to match up
    And lead somewhere.
    I’m no good at this
    And no good for myself like this.
    I’m trying to do right by my family.
    Keep my mother together.
    I give her what I can.
    There’s so little left
    Every bit of me is going in to holding up this collapsing roof.
    I free one bit of myself
    And another bit moves under to take the weight
    Shifting it
    From left to right.
    My scalp is full of the grit of lost battles
    And demolished tangents.
    I got distracted for a moment
    And my world is falling down on me.
    I hate every piece of poetry that’s poured out of me lately
    It sticks to roof of my mouth
    Leaves a bad taste behind my tongue.
    The rhythms bother me
    The wording seems trite
    The things expressed unworthy and juvenile.
    I have yet to forgive myself.
  2. theleastofthese

    theleastofthese SF Friend Staff Alumni

    Dearly Beloved;

    I love it!:smile: ...especially the last line - it's me, totally me!:sad:

    You are so very gifted! Thank you for sharing your gift with us!:smile:


  3. BelovedDreamer

    BelovedDreamer Well-Known Member

    thanks :laugh:

    It was partially inspired by this Michel Foucault quote...
    "The strategic adversary is fascism... the fascism in us all, in our heads and in our everyday behavior, the fascism that causes us to love power, to desire the very thing that dominates and exploits us."
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