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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: I'm a Poseurdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: CynicalxDreamer
    ASL Info:    31/m/7th Level of Hell
    Elite Ratio:    2.46 - 40/100/64
    Words: 627
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 827
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3613



    Description:
       Occasionally I'll get these moments where I have to put something down on paper. This was one of them. However, as I wrote, I felt like I was flopping down words just to have them there....not that it was a shitty product just that maybe it was all empty somehow. That because I have never truly felt some emotions or not had a certain experience, that it lacks feeling...that its empty. I like to consider myself empathic but the more I contemplated...the more I wondered...do I have room to write about these things? Should I have a voice? Or am I just...a poseur? Thus...this is the result.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsI'm a Poseurdots
    -------------------------------------------



    The great thing about poetry
    Is that you can talk about something you have never felt
    You can surmise, improvise, dramatize sensations
    That you have read about or recall from the movie on tv
    But are empty echoes of the true feeling
    Like a prosthetic limb trying to flail and act like a real arm
    It can reach out to make that connection
    But it can’t quite give a proper handshake
    Some of us romanticize the idea of what love may be like
    Reciting one-liners in a cool hook to express an idea
    A concept for an emotion that would drown us if we actually attempted to swim in it
    We speak and rail on about the heart
    As if we knew the truth, preachers of passions screaming from the pulpit
    When we have never stepped beyond that threshold
    Afraid that our romantic dreams will crack and shatter
    We want so desperately to believe that love conquers all and words can change the world
    That somehow if these childhood fantasies are untrue
    Our world will fall out from under us and throw us into the grey

    That is not to say a poet is unfeeling or has never felt
    But as one poet has said, poets are liars
    We spit a truth that we want others to hear and know
    Like a hashtag feed for others to pass on by word of mouth
    To go ‘oooo’ and ‘aaaa’, snap a few fingers, and say how ‘we get it’
    We do not, however, want you to know the truths inside
    We want you to see a blockbuster film or romantic comedy
    Not the trainwreck amateur film festival that can be our feelings
    I want to write about love at first sight staring across a subway line
    Not talk about the bitter sensation of waking up in bed and feeling that empty fucking spot next to me
    The reason I can’t sleep at night because I feel this void
    Reminding me that each day I grow disenchanted with fairy tale endings
    That my words are cheap regurgitations of a rock ballad
    That I haven’t fallen in love, only had crushes that only I talk to myself about
    That for all the potential I believe I have in myself, I don’t have the self confidence
    To ask any girl I ever met to go on a date
    Because of that fear not just of rejection
    But also the shuddering apprehension that I waited for nothing

    This isn’t a poem about love or lack of love
    This is about that bitter knowledge that I know nothing
    I do not know the heart, I do not know emotion
    That for all that I ever will try to scribble and scratch across paper
    That these words are just pale attempts to say what every person feels
    What screeches inside my brain, hiding inside this shell of college rule and ink
    I don’t have hooks, I don’t have rhymes, I don’t even have a pattern or meter
    I just have the same thing every person around me has…feelings
    Feelings that I’m afraid will eat me from the inside out and reveal a truth that I do not want to see
    Every day I take a look in the mirror, I don’t see me
    I see a mask of self deception so deep
    That if I tried to rip it off, I’d be pulling bone
    That fear that makes me feel the core of me is filled with oblivion
    Not deep and meaningful depression or beautiful sadness
    But a black hole that pulls everything in
    Just to feel something inside me
    That someday, I can put my name down on paper
    And say that I’m not posing at poetry




    Submitted on 2013-09-16 06:51:07     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I usually write my poems about things I experience. Not necessarily physically or even emotionally but intellectually too. It's a superior ability to be able to think with analogy and abstract reasoning. Just because these objects don't actually exist doesn't make their expression shallow. It's an art to be able to learn this way. Be prepared and all that. I mean I realize that plausibility's cause if pursued to the limit will leave you lost in the quandaries of the psychic quagmire, as opposed to grounded in reality, but, like I said it's a good learning tool. Poetry can be fiction. It needn't be documentary. I say write what you feel and you'll never be a poser.

    Bruce
    | Posted on 2013-09-16 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]


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