Better or Verse: "Five 'Til Ten Then Back Again"
Head rests
On your chest
All I do
is wonder
'Bout getting off
Getting under
Ripped nicely asunder
Under?
The thumb
Off via?
The lover
Proverbial other
Cigarettes lit
Worry sheet-covered
with happy litany
Name means nothing to me
Y'know, the OG
Mary supposedly mothered
On your chest
All I do
is wonder
'Bout getting off
Getting under
Ripped nicely asunder
Under?
The thumb
Off via?
The lover
Proverbial other
Cigarettes lit
Worry sheet-covered
with happy litany
Name means nothing to me
Y'know, the OG
Mary supposedly mothered
It goes love then no quarter
When it's lateral motion
Adored to deplored
I'd rather be
the safer
less popular
notion of
ignored
This is how the party goes
for those
You know those
Uncomfortable in skin
Moreso in clothes
You stand on your own
You leave on your own
Life ordered by verb
tense
Conjugated alone
Through ever sigh-heave-throaty-moan
You may rumple sheets here
Coexist with me here
Keep well aware
you get no drawer
I'm not your home
Jeans and Dep 10 can't
displace alone
Things slide better
post-you, post-hu-
if I forgo the glue
Stick with
or slip with
or flail to forget
Using mutual disinterest
Bondo
and sweat
A bemused glance that says
I did not know they made faux-crocodile pants
in sizes quite that large
But I'm still
not sick
of you
quite yet
When it's lateral motion
Adored to deplored
I'd rather be
the safer
less popular
notion of
ignored
This is how the party goes
for those
You know those
Uncomfortable in skin
Moreso in clothes
You stand on your own
You leave on your own
Life ordered by verb
tense
Conjugated alone
Through ever sigh-heave-throaty-moan
You may rumple sheets here
Coexist with me here
Keep well aware
you get no drawer
I'm not your home
Jeans and Dep 10 can't
displace alone
Things slide better
post-you, post-hu-
if I forgo the glue
Stick with
or slip with
or flail to forget
Using mutual disinterest
Bondo
and sweat
A bemused glance that says
I did not know they made faux-crocodile pants
in sizes quite that large
But I'm still
not sick
of you
quite yet
Labels: Bad Poetry, The Compleat Thumbscrew
posted by thumbscre.ws at
11/16/2006
6 Comments:
It'd help if I knew who the person(s) whom you had in mind while writing this was.
I like it.
Ah, but that is Poetry... you DON'T know; you make it relevant to you. If you must know (and you're probably the sort who has to read song lyrics, too, AREN'T YOU), the addressee is an amalgam - haven't written anything directed towards an ACTUAL, existent person in a number of years.
That's kinda what I thought, because I saw some things in there that were impersonal enough to be intended for a half-fictitious roll-up of non-too-personal people, and some of it seemed a little more personal.
Yes, I do need to know lyrics, but that's because half of the bands I listen to scream unintelligably.
Some songs and poems take on such a strong personal meaning to me that, even if I met their authors, I wouldn't want to know their intended meaning.
Also why I hate behind-the-scenes interviews of DVDs. Most of the profound, life changing parts of movies I love are accidental or on a whim, not meant to be deep at all. For instance, in Close Encounters, Spielberg briefly considered spaceships shaped like the McDonalds logo before someone slapped him and he decided on the Mothership. *sigh* See also: the Matrix (the biggest mistake that worked in the history of film).
On a related note, I know a man who shows me a disappearing quarter trick. Often. He says I'm going to figure it out if he shows me too often. But if I wanted to know, I would have known by now. I just want the thing to keep disappearing.
Also, why is it that the second something around here starts to rhyme, all the commenters have to go defrost their deep freezers? Simultaneously?
Likes rats off a sinking ship, I tell ya.
*wipes away a tear or two*
Lovely. Just lovely. And so far removed from the "He who writes upon these walls..." verses you've been scrawling in magic marker on the stall walls of every ladies room in the tri-state area.
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