Random Poetry!
I haven't written in poem in... two years? How sad. I used to think I was quite the artiste, but looking back now, I feel like a lot of my poetry was kinda lame. At least my "first generation" poetry. That was my high-school/early college days when I was nothing more than a big ball of angst. There was a girl I was "in love" with and I was really torn up about it. Then I left high-school and couldn't get a girlfriend. And I was really torn up about it. Sadly, not only was my poetry whiny and kinda immature, it just straight up wasn't that good. Everyone else still thinks they are nice, but they kinda annoy me now.
In any case, I thought I'd share some of my poems, new and old, from time to time on here. Ryan's project has gotten me thinking about writing again, so maybe I'll actually, you know, do that. Anyway, here's one of my old school loser poems. This was my magnum opus, back in the day:
"Wane"
A tarnished beauty, smothered in lies,
it's all that's left, dead to my eyes.
My heart bound to a lattice of spite,
stuck in the shadow, can't see the light.
I don't want to be like this, this isn't me,
but I can't go back to what I used to be.
We both are lost on an impossible quest,
there's no hope, it seems, no rest.
It's not your fault, nor is it mine.
I can't go any farther, the end of the line.
I never wanted this, all I wanted was you,
there's too much pain, what must I do?
Maybe you never knew, will never know,
maybe it's better that I just go.
Get on with my life, let you slip away,
full of regrets, but I'm better, today.
Maybe next time, maybe you'll see,
who I am, who you are, and what you mean to me.
Though love has fled, one thing holds true,
I will always be there for you.
Huh. Come to think of it, that's not all that bad. I think I judge my own poems harshly because of their angst, but now that I reread this I actually like it. Or maybe I'm just arrogant as ever. I'm about to toot my own horn, so bear with me: I really like the imagery in the first couple lines. I went to the Trent Reznor school of poetry where everything is distorted and over-the-top. What can I say, that's just my style. All in all, I think this one has a nice flow to it. Bravo, me! ...God, I'm such a jackass.
Next!
"Unremember"
Mr. Boss-man,
unhire me from this tedious nine to five.
Break me from the shackles
of the job fair slave trade
I want to run free in the streets and
unremember sixteen wasted years and a college degree.
Mr. Teacher, sir,
unlearn me this supposed wisdom.
Free me from this graveyard
where fresh thought goes to die
I want to run free through the playground and
unremember the knowledge that stole my innocence.
Mr. Television set,
unwatch me this stale spectacle.
Help me flee the terror
with which you invade my home
I want to walk fearless through this life and
unremember all the pain and sorrow
Mommy dearest,
unsend me to this static life.
Take me back to the home
where we all belong
Crawl careless over cushioned floors and
unremember the cuts and scrapes of a squandered life.
This one I wrote in my junior year of college. This is actually one of the last poems I ever wrote, I think. My professor actually criticized for being too whiny, which was odd, as I assumed he'd be critiquing the form and not the subject matter. Anyway, more good imagery here, if I don't say so myself (and I do!). Now that I look, I might want to reverse the order of the second and third stanzas. As I "matured" as a poet I rhymed less. As such, the form here is a little less strict and less flowing. You see, true poets are too pretentious to rhyme. I wrote a fun poem about the pretention of poetry as an art, but I'll share that one for another time.
One more short one:
"Fireplace"
The TV sets a fire
watching our eyes burn
Self-fulfilling pyre-prophecy
Keeps our hearts (and hearths)
warm with hate
The continued evolution of my pretention. This one is very word-play filled. It was originally layed out in a very E. E. Cummings-esque jumble (see, I did learn something in college) with various parenthesis and things where they looked funny. Anyway, witness the layers:
1) is it "the TV sets a fire" or "the TV sets afire"
2) is it "watching our eyes burn" or is it "watching, our eyes burn"
3) well it's kinda spelled out now, but originally it would've read "Keeps our heart(h)s"
Cool, huh? I'm so clever.
Comment please. If you don't, I will simply cease to be. (Seriously, even though these are old, I'd still appreciate the thoughts!)
In any case, I thought I'd share some of my poems, new and old, from time to time on here. Ryan's project has gotten me thinking about writing again, so maybe I'll actually, you know, do that. Anyway, here's one of my old school loser poems. This was my magnum opus, back in the day:
"Wane"
A tarnished beauty, smothered in lies,
it's all that's left, dead to my eyes.
My heart bound to a lattice of spite,
stuck in the shadow, can't see the light.
I don't want to be like this, this isn't me,
but I can't go back to what I used to be.
We both are lost on an impossible quest,
there's no hope, it seems, no rest.
It's not your fault, nor is it mine.
I can't go any farther, the end of the line.
I never wanted this, all I wanted was you,
there's too much pain, what must I do?
Maybe you never knew, will never know,
maybe it's better that I just go.
Get on with my life, let you slip away,
full of regrets, but I'm better, today.
Maybe next time, maybe you'll see,
who I am, who you are, and what you mean to me.
Though love has fled, one thing holds true,
I will always be there for you.
Huh. Come to think of it, that's not all that bad. I think I judge my own poems harshly because of their angst, but now that I reread this I actually like it. Or maybe I'm just arrogant as ever. I'm about to toot my own horn, so bear with me: I really like the imagery in the first couple lines. I went to the Trent Reznor school of poetry where everything is distorted and over-the-top. What can I say, that's just my style. All in all, I think this one has a nice flow to it. Bravo, me! ...God, I'm such a jackass.
Next!
"Unremember"
Mr. Boss-man,
unhire me from this tedious nine to five.
Break me from the shackles
of the job fair slave trade
I want to run free in the streets and
unremember sixteen wasted years and a college degree.
Mr. Teacher, sir,
unlearn me this supposed wisdom.
Free me from this graveyard
where fresh thought goes to die
I want to run free through the playground and
unremember the knowledge that stole my innocence.
Mr. Television set,
unwatch me this stale spectacle.
Help me flee the terror
with which you invade my home
I want to walk fearless through this life and
unremember all the pain and sorrow
Mommy dearest,
unsend me to this static life.
Take me back to the home
where we all belong
Crawl careless over cushioned floors and
unremember the cuts and scrapes of a squandered life.
This one I wrote in my junior year of college. This is actually one of the last poems I ever wrote, I think. My professor actually criticized for being too whiny, which was odd, as I assumed he'd be critiquing the form and not the subject matter. Anyway, more good imagery here, if I don't say so myself (and I do!). Now that I look, I might want to reverse the order of the second and third stanzas. As I "matured" as a poet I rhymed less. As such, the form here is a little less strict and less flowing. You see, true poets are too pretentious to rhyme. I wrote a fun poem about the pretention of poetry as an art, but I'll share that one for another time.
One more short one:
"Fireplace"
The TV sets a fire
watching our eyes burn
Self-fulfilling pyre-prophecy
Keeps our hearts (and hearths)
warm with hate
The continued evolution of my pretention. This one is very word-play filled. It was originally layed out in a very E. E. Cummings-esque jumble (see, I did learn something in college) with various parenthesis and things where they looked funny. Anyway, witness the layers:
1) is it "the TV sets a fire" or "the TV sets afire"
2) is it "watching our eyes burn" or is it "watching, our eyes burn"
3) well it's kinda spelled out now, but originally it would've read "Keeps our heart(h)s"
Cool, huh? I'm so clever.
Comment please. If you don't, I will simply cease to be. (Seriously, even though these are old, I'd still appreciate the thoughts!)
posted by Kultcher at Tuesday, June 28, 2005
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