poetry critical

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The Reality isn't
dvdsxr

you tap your foot in double time
 1
to your heart pumping the blood
 2
you just filled with magic;
 3
the wait is the worst part;
 4
anticipation for the boiling
 5
hours to come
 6
and block out the rest of the world
 7
where you are the center
 8
 
 
of the universe.
 9
 
 
your mistress needs cleaning,
 10
tuning, and attention
 11
to detail; today you will
 12
compose a sonnet
 13
for your trouble and
 14
woes; tomorrow
 15
you will swallow your medicine
 16
and pace the halls
 17
of extortion and fraud
 18
with half a smile, because
 19
you're getting better
 20
and better
 21
 
 
at lying.
 22
 
 
in a week you will be empty
 23
of the weekends fanatic, frantic
 24
celebrations and bloodsucking
 25
nightlife,
 26
ready to sleep an hour
 27
only to wake and do it
 28
 
 
again.
 29
 
 
in a month you will maybe
 30
exist, maybe not.
 31
you hope the evidence
 32
is good.
 33
you hope
 34
consistency doesn't gamble
 35
like your heart does
 36
on slippery slopes
 37
and the tiny beacons in
 38
crumbled sand castles
 39
collapsing towers.
 40
 
 
in a year you might
 41
pull your hair into a rotten bun
 42
of decaying proteins
 43
or you might wipe the sweat from
 44
your brow to your skeleton neck
 45
with your weak wrists:
 46
the future you cannot know,
 47
though you think enough
 48
to wager that
 49
a year is as likely as it isn't
 50
to be enough ...time.
 51
 
 
you want love,
 52
you want admiration,
 53
you want power, control, and fame.
 54
you want someone to carve your name into their wrists
 55
and for someone to keep you
 56
at the top of their list,
 57
stalking your digital ghost towns
 58
looking for whatever went wrong
 59
and why why why
 60
 
 
did you become Narcissus?
 61
 
 
why can't you put down the mirror?
 62
 
 
why can't you give more than you take?
 63
 
 
why do you build walls around yourself to hang paintings of yourself with walls around them to hang more paintings and more walls and on and on and
 64
 
 
why are you still here?
 65
 
 
why are you?
 66
 
 
why?
 67
 
 
you want and nothing is new.
 68
you take and nothing is new.
 69
you fake all that you do
 70
and though you leave clues,
 71
you can't expect
 72
an enigma this obvious
 73
 
 
to be obvious.
 74

11 Oct 16


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(64 more poems by this author)



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Fuck my writing is garbage. It doesn't read like poetry... does it?
 — dvdsxr

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