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I've wasted more than just a summer with a broken pencil
in my hand, emulating what I wanted to become: someone
besides what the mirror shows... aging, slipping, losing
to some delusion that rhymes make a poem, that people
that things on paper can be re-arranged to some form of
but what was it, other than self-satisfying rearrangements
and emulations of formulas and patterns, what was it other
than lies and self-stroking nonsense to fuel just another
weary and worn-out part, a heart and soul that doesn't
exist outside a sum of tissues forcing wind through
muscular contractions and mouth shapes to form
I am good, yes, so very good
at taking off my clothes and skin, at removing the cancer
that lies within, holding it outstretched in my palm
to offer interest.
But that is all I have to offer.
So give me a dollar, and I'll pour you another coffee.
Give me a hundred pieces of green paper, and you buy
a few sexual favors. But anything else, I will disappoint
and prove to be what I always was: my mother's child,
my father's throw-away, a waste of time that exists
just this side of nowhere.
Big words don't fit you, girl... you can carry them all day
in a bag that bangs yours legs while you're walking,
but just because you picked them up when they were thrown around
doesn't mean they're really yours.
Dirty hands are always going to be empty,
no matter what you try to fill them with.
| okay may i say..on returning to this piece again...|
to me, a classic piece.
|| Posted on 2011-10-28 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] || big words are just compact manners of saying small words and most people end up becoming confused or confusing when saying them so i guess you're fairly accurate. i was in a place trying to stretch myself where too many new words and rhythms mocked me by comparison to the nature that i was before them. i guess in a sense it helped because it let me put together more communicateable sequences and proved more efficient for analytical methods. i guess i spent so much time analyzing other things and putting these emulatory sequences inside myself that bits and pieces bled through, but i suppose that's nothing too bad in truth, and it's helped me out of the hell i once fell into. i think this is good in you can recognize that words just arranged for a rhythm aren't anything but delusion or our way of deflecting but on the other hand you always end up being too harsh on yourself and bringing these positive associations back around to some sort of negative contrast which i find sad. i think people do change, i just think most of the time we all categorize in manners that which are most effecient and we sort of dismiss what changes happen by sort of vaguely looking at our old summarization of things. i think you've shown alot of growth over the years, and if anything you should be easier on yourself.||| Posted on 2011-10-19 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ] || I just have to say that I disagree with Chris. The last two lines are perfect. They cement this notion of the speaker thinking she is "not good enough". But it's more than that. It speaks of not being deserving. Just like the metaphor about the bag of big words does--but more so. I would not change the last two lines at all! And I definitely wouldn't drop them! |
|| Posted on 2011-10-17 00:00:00 | by JanePlane | [ Reply to This ] || I too have spent (wasted) my time trying to affect my kismet on the kapish anchored hutzpah , but honestly I'm little more than the animal I purvey . Contrarily I am a firm believer that words can be rearranged into a form of art . Conversely art is little more than an ersatz image of the true fecundity of imagination which in realistic terms is almost ineffable . Even still that doesn't make it lies and self stroking nonsense . You shouldn't be so hard on yourself , we take heart in each others fantasies . So on the coffee , I offer you my bucko , and though I may not have the fee to culminate a physical relationship (we're somewhat platonic here on ES) you have touched me many times with your succinctly salacious virility . Though you may consider yourself to be a waste of time thats not how it comes across to me of my nobody nowhere saying nothing . Seriously imagination can express almost anything even when it's not able to factually embody it . Just because your dirty hands are not perhaps as ethereally sublime as you surrealistic had hoped doesn't mean you can't be cogent and apposite . I find your sagacity to be enriching and fulfilling . I know , what is this dawdling drivel and drippy dribble but I kind of get off on your epitomizing empiricisms and indeed find them self justifying and meaningful . You really speak from the heart even if you don't feel justified to be sesquipedalian with your intellectuality's expression . |
PS: Sesquipedalian means using a lot of foot and a half long words .
|| Posted on 2011-10-17 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ] || these broken pencils and worthless words|
file past the guard shack like crippled birds
they've learned to to lick crumbs from the warden's table
spit out the spiders and spin their own cables
|| Posted on 2011-10-16 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ] || First of all, let me join the others in saying "welcome back"...and you are back...with a vengeance. and i like it.|
This piece of writing is so genuine, so authentic.....exposing yourself naked and open is a bold, brave move, and that's what this piece is, bold and brave. We're so good at building walls (skins) around ourselves, to protect ourselves that we don't know how to stand vulnerable to the world.
An amazing write, truly.
|| Posted on 2011-10-15 00:00:00 | by rubie | [ Reply to This ] || The brings with it a real feeling of kinship/recognition to me as the reader--that could be me thinking/talking/writing, castigating myself--the difference being I wouldn't be able to be so raw, so vital, so true to it. |
The last line somehow doesn't ring right. I don't see the logic between dirty hands, and empty hands. I think the poem could do without that line very nicely.
Very much enjoyed this write.~Chris
|| Posted on 2011-10-15 00:00:00 | by ponykeeper | [ Reply to This ] || i am so glad to read you again...|
this is naked honest...the guts of it...you might expect something of me...but really all i am is pencil writing truth...a girl with real, honest feelings...standing naked before you with all i can offer...enough green and i'll make you feel serene for a night or two...but beyond that...don't have any expectations..cause that me is gone..the one who could deliver that.
you would have fit right in with the confessional beats..sexton, levertov and others...it's all here, it's all you...
i am once again inspired...
|| Posted on 2011-10-15 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] || Welcome back :)|
Good to see you posting again, this piece is really great in the confessional tone and the descriptive way it cones together to express the scenario and the scene and it works well to draw one in and make them a part of what you are ecperiencing.. No nits here.
|| Posted on 2011-10-15 00:00:00 | by Clayman | [ Reply to This ] || God, you've written exactly what I've been thinking. What I wanted to write. . . have wanted to write. . . what I have always thought. How do you know about my dirty hands? How do you know about me lugging around these big words (did you know I had to resist the urge to write "cumbersome" rather than "big")? |
I guess what I'm trying to get at is: You aren't just showing us your personal "cancer", you are showing us your humanity, and you're helping others to see theirs as well. And that means something. It means a lot.
I think all writers get to a point where they start to question themselves. I've often asked myself, "Who do I think I am? Why did I ever think that what I have to say or what I feel is so important that it merits being written down, let alone looked at by other people?" But then I come back to that same point--it's about reaching out. About making and feeling connections to others. Besides, something in me "makes" me do this. It's my calling. And it is yours. It, along with our insecurities, doubts, fears, unwieldy words (you like that? I even threw in a bit of obligatory alliteration) . . . . are the burdens we are meant to carry--meant to share.
Thanks for sharing. I really like this piece a lot.
|| Posted on 2011-10-15 00:00:00 | by JanePlane | [ Reply to This ] || So much power behind this. And it belongs to you, it is you, I can guarantee you that. |
and inside of it is what you are offering yourself. Naked, skinless, exposed, but real and sincere.
One size doesn't fit all, but I think the shoe fits this Cinderella.
There are plenty of shades to this, there are plenty of shades to you.
Not meant to shed, but worn with pride.
Sorry if it sounds like I'm speaking gibberish, this is just what you made me think of.
I really enjoyed this. Very powerful and honest work.
|| Posted on 2011-10-15 00:00:00 | by OneDarkFlame92 | [ Reply to This ] |