weeks pass without poetry years crawl on their knees, arms outstretched hands cupped and begging, a pathetic pleading look frozen to faces that never quite cracked into smiles cinematic/acrobatic aspirations become vain fantasies, like everyone predicted everyone is the vaguest word in the dictionary-- everyone knew everyone came everyone laughed everyone died inspiration becomes accident stemmed from boredom and fever fervent thoughts jumbled desperation-- God, why can't I write? nights turn into days that fly like pages from calendars (inspirational one-a-day quotes) birds white-winging themselves into an azure sky and never gain redemption or can be regained time leaves us breathless death hopeless aspiration fruitless and the ones who never go mad go mad, slowly meditation becomes autism those who dreamed of the place beyond the dream run out of gas before the dream and take up their Stoicism as their armor against a suddenly alien environment it's only alien in madness to the mad things fall apart, take new shapes forget their origins grow up to be successful lawyers in Los Angeles until the ocean takes the city to its bosom like Atlantis and after the 3rd World War when we're picking up the pieces the new civilization will replace our obsession of Atlantis with theirs of Los Angeles lost angels 11-22-98
Reason for writing:
i hadn't written a poem in several weeks--this one came as a stream of consciousness
Birth sign: Not entered
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