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April 7, 2004

Posted by anoddphrase in Uncategorized.
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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)


 


 


 


 


y’know?


 


            i’ve realized… [something]


                                    that we’ve never sat together,


                                                                        there on the couch,


                                                            without enough room for a finger


                                                                                 to slide


                                                                             between


                                                (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


                        resting,


                                      naturally,


                                                as if drawn,intrinsically


                                                                        [through, by, {but never along}]


                                                           an invisible string


                                                    winding slowly


                                         magnetically


 


                        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


                                                                        FIRST


                                                                                         {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


                                                            Second


 


 


                                                                                                            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


    EVERYTHING


}                               ]


                                                                                                                        and then came


 


 


 


                        ……. you


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Comments»

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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