Anatomy of a flower child.
Clusters of romantic epiphanies.
My metaphoric constellation.
A whimsical domestic woman.
The horror. The horror.
Measured violence.
Paradoxical masochism.
Love of mutual disgust.
Disgust of love.
Slow poison. Slower the sting. Slowest the salvation.
Mental Moloch.
A social panic alarm.
A weathered lovenote.
Moist with heartache.
Soothing pretense.
A poised afterlife.
Like solitude. An absentminded lover.
Nails in my veins.
Corroding my flesh.
Bleeding for discretion. Of ignorance.
A dated spirit.
Terminated heart.
A verbal striptease.
You vinyl breathing saint.
Such are your idiosyncrasies.
Wordfreeze.
Gobsmacked fantasies.
The beauty of pathos.
Enslaving obsession.
A whirlpool of bloated guise.
Survivors of extinct.
An ode to a toasted era.
A statistical life lived.
Mocking your gloating gladness.
To a generation of armed roaches.
To morals then, my wrinkled man.
Drivel. All drivel.
Picture courtesy: Pablo Picasso's Guernica.
You haven't written this.Show your true self to the world and not this fake self, which is just an illusion of what you want to be.
ReplyDeleteThis hasn't been written by you.
hahahhaa :P
ReplyDeleteNice post bitch :-*
You make my world go round round round..
by using such words :)
accha tha! :)
Hard to please, aren't you?
ReplyDeleteunfortunately for me, I am tiring of you already anonymous. The sadistic pleasure you get by saying whatever you're saying is getting monotonous and is ineffective.
Or maybe I am on a rebound.
Who knows?
And Mitchelle I am guessing?
Thank you Dreamer.
I see Plath at work here. The ghosts of writers they seep through the afterlife into our blood. People like us. They are injected with these ghosts, with the syringe of voices. Into our minds, infecting it with words of glorious epiphany like junkie hits. And then they leave us weak, with the promise of another possession.Soon.Ginsberg and Plath they haunt me greatly like this. Torment the biology of my words, until I'm a vessel and pale imitation of their suffering.Gladly too. I recognize a fellow victim and feel proud of a few of these precious epiphanies, if i may say so.
ReplyDeleteI don't understand poetry a lot but
ReplyDelete"A whimsical domestic woman.
The horror. The horror."
is hilarious. Also, Guernica. PABLOISAFREAK
Also, I like words used. Gobsmacked and 'armed roaches' which reminds me of Joe's Apartment and is also a very nice image. ITISGOODTHANXFORLETTINGMEKNOWABOUTTHISOKAYBYEPILGRIM
Kanda Batata. Bag full of. Never mind. I can reflect, though in bad taste. Not a very nice feeling to talk of.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant.
ReplyDeleteYou are a prolific writer, Delphic anima.
You don't have a long way to go..because you are already there!:)
P.S.- The layout is Miasma's Main Paayint. Awesome.
Poetry is the only way you show your true self. You reveal the true you. You do not shy away from what people may think of you. You are your truer self. and anonymous my friend, you got it ALL wrong.
ReplyDeleteWhat she shows in person is only what she wants you to see.
But her poetry, it will NOT lie.
Any oye! I'm not sure i posted that earlier comment. :S but it sure does sound like me :P
ReplyDeleteI loved the poetry btw.... and the words do make my world go round round and round. :P
Love you mwaaah :*