We have swallowed clouds
We ate them twirled about our fingers
sticky, sickly sweet like
one bunch too much of
rainbow cotton candy
We have drawn out stars amongst
revolution colored skies and
woven them into nets of self-discovery
We have painted chained flowers
'round buses and Bugs
humming and strumming to
snow-white songs of
We have wept dove soft tears for
oppressionist wars and
senseless acts of
brotherhood and poetic license
We have gathered en mass to
witness the rise and fall of
nubile bodies painted with
mud and sun and sweat and
We have run on liberated feet
from and towards that
ever-pedestalled collective dream of
free love and ultimate
We have built bonds in
melting snow, waiting
for something new and
to come along and give us
just one more cause to
Makes me believe that maybe our generation is as jaded as most people say it is that is why we try to derange or sense and feel something new... break every boundary to feel our hearts beating. Should we blame technology and the reach of man's senses? Should we even blame anything? I don't think so... it's just the way things are.
This piece reminds of a few war veterans. The way they have become psychological victims of their duties to the point that without a war... they feel useless. Not that I'm saying it's a bad thing... it's just that... it's hard to let go of your purpose... to let go of the fact that you are blatantly important to the world.
This also reminds me of orgies... mental, physical, etc. The way people can get into an almost too dangerous ambience and just fade in it to allow themselves to feel what they want to feel and live.
Anyway... the image you painted is beautiful.
Your usage of metaphors in this piece... from the revolution colored skies (which I liked a lot for its chaotically dreamy feel) to the rest of the colors you've installed... were very useful. The tone of your piece appeared tragically jubilant... or should I say... alive.
I can almost hear this read out loud in a poets cafe. I love it, it flows smooth. senseless acts of brotherhood and poetic license I especailly like these lines as I sit here and what yet another program about the senseliess violence that esists around the world, a surviver or the rwanda genoside cries and shares her memories and I remeber the rxcuses the world shared as they fought over the poetic licence of the word genocide... this is going into my favorites..
i swear, if you do what SoB suggested- I will personally kill you. to death, bro.
all she did was pretensify it. pretentious SoB... ugh. she added brackets. and by copying your poem and adding needless brackets that in no way affected the reading of the poem and were just there for the visual, she got uber-points for the comment length. lame.
Indeed. Well put, Miss Drowning Queen. The imagery was excellent, and it certainly brought to the surface the free spirit of that time...of course, I wasn't there, but from what I can tell, you did an admirable job. One grammatical note: I'm not sure, but shouldn't it be "woven them into nets of self-discovery"? Loved the metaphorical quality of this piece. A fave.
this made me think of the Haight Ashbury... flower children and all. it is very well written and harkens back to the days of peace and love and marching for revolution. i think it should be "We have run" instead of ran... what is that saying, "If you remember the '60s you weren't there..." ?!
very vivid in imagery, and i must fave this one, my friend. i'm just an old hippie at heart!