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April 7, 2004

Posted by anoddphrase in Uncategorized.

yeah, i didn’t like this… (i rarely, do, but this one gets particular detestation, if not outright hatred {yes, i’m allowed to hate/detest/dislike my own work :P}) and yeah, i’m not feeling in the mood to publish in aij for some reason… not really feeling in the mood for writing my own poetry lately at all.. though i’m still reading thru E.E. Cummings :P–if u couldn’t tell.. but yeah, anyway, been mroe in a mood for photograhy, as seen above :P…. (yes, i plea shamelessly for love of beauty, or at least what i think is beauty… :P)







            i’ve realized… [something]

                                    that we’ve never sat together,

                                                                        there on the couch,

                                                            without enough room for a finger

                                                                                 to slide


                                                (in a sneaky, sly attempt)

                                        to separate

                                    , like two cats—intertwined vines,



                             you and me.


            me leaning against you

            you—r arm

                        stretched out and curled

                                    as if it was always meant to be                              bent gently

                                                                                                            angled softly

                                                                                    towards me

            you—r head



                                                as if drawn,intrinsically

                                                                        [through, by, {but never along}]

                                                           an invisible string

                                                    winding slowly



                        towards me      ,                                             mine




and i hate that.



                                                                                    you call me by my childhood name

                                                            {the name that i never knew was not mine

                                                                          until the days where rolls were called

                                                                                    and attendance taken—


                                                                ,not that they never weren’t,

                                                                        but not quite strictly so;

                                                                                    in my world


                                                perhaps not yours.}


and then by the one

                                    whose strange face i still can’t

                                                            .Quite.  seem to recognize

                                                                          {or even realize,inside}

                                                                                                                        is mine?



                                    (will you ever decide which is to be yours

                                                and then, which is to be mine?)



                                                                                         i’ve friends      who’ve more

                                                                                                  (held more closely to the bosom)

                                                                                                                                {and perhaps, the heart}

                                                                                                right to the


                                                                                         {who’ve lain in giggles and fits

                                                                                        moments of brightness and

                                                                                    those of dark                                    }


     and acquaintances       who’ve more

 {whose first impressions belie                           the sparkling tears

            or perhaps, more                                  that drip (dripdripdrip)

                reveal {}                                            from the shimmery

                                                                        [crystalline]        , chandelier

                                                                                                of the figure and shape

                                                i identify as my heart }}

               right to the




                                                                                                            and yet,

                                                                                                i still think that welling of

                                                                                                     teardrops from the soul

                                                                                           aches far less around them

                                                            than around

[and then,

just as i got used to


}                               ]

                                                                                                                        and then came




                        ……. you



1. closethippie - April 8, 2004

Very poignant work.  I enjoyed reading it and thinking about it.  Interesting way you break the lines.  I had to work hard to follow it.  But I didn’t mind it.  Such good thoughts in it.

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