Post by xunpredictablel on Nov 7, 2011 12:48:38 GMT -5
blank
I want to say words that will make you
melt but I am
blank.
I reach into my mind as if it is an
abyss but it is blank?
I tumble down a black hole,
gagging at its emptiness…
and yet I fall still
emphatic and allured by the
blank.
like a piece of paper,
a tempting document that
blink
blink
blinks at you, waiting for your
genius words. begging for your
listless, sleepless poems
dangle from your fingertips which
dangle from your bed
the monsters like to lick them
like puppy dogs on the curbs so
desperate for a master but they’re
blank to their danger
blank to the unlikelihood
I am not scared of
the demons on my walls
because if we’re being honest here –
they’re just as scared as me of the
blank
and that’s why they crawl out of
the walls, peel their way out of
the corners
question the recesses of my mind that
beg them to stay back
because god they don’t wanna stay back.
but really they’re just a
personification of this bright black line
blinking on the page in front of me
blink
blink
blink
taunting me to write something amazing
although all the poems are
taken like library books that are
well-worn.
and words tumble from my raw lips
like flame to tinder, I am
but a child, an Alice looking for
wonderland and finding nothing
but a question –
“are you frightened of a line?”
yes, yes I am.
the blankness of a page
terrifies me
a poet’s defeat
lingering on the edges of
destruction.
like a cliché middle school band
with such a desperate voice and
blank.
lack of talent – he says “I went to sleep
a poet and I woke up a fraud”
the line just
signifies the phases
of waking
and sleeping
tumbling into destruction and
reviving yourself from its ashes.
lengthening the
word as if it changes
as if another single phrase could
make your work original
and unintelligibly brilliant
as if another phrase could open someone’s eyes
and let them scream from
enlightenment.
let them live their lie
just like you live yours
pretending that your page is everything except
blank.
I want to say words that will make you
melt but I am
blank.
I reach into my mind as if it is an
abyss but it is blank?
I tumble down a black hole,
gagging at its emptiness…
and yet I fall still
emphatic and allured by the
blank.
like a piece of paper,
a tempting document that
blink
blink
blinks at you, waiting for your
genius words. begging for your
listless, sleepless poems
dangle from your fingertips which
dangle from your bed
the monsters like to lick them
like puppy dogs on the curbs so
desperate for a master but they’re
blank to their danger
blank to the unlikelihood
I am not scared of
the demons on my walls
because if we’re being honest here –
they’re just as scared as me of the
blank
and that’s why they crawl out of
the walls, peel their way out of
the corners
question the recesses of my mind that
beg them to stay back
because god they don’t wanna stay back.
but really they’re just a
personification of this bright black line
blinking on the page in front of me
blink
blink
blink
taunting me to write something amazing
although all the poems are
taken like library books that are
well-worn.
and words tumble from my raw lips
like flame to tinder, I am
but a child, an Alice looking for
wonderland and finding nothing
but a question –
“are you frightened of a line?”
yes, yes I am.
the blankness of a page
terrifies me
a poet’s defeat
lingering on the edges of
destruction.
like a cliché middle school band
with such a desperate voice and
blank.
lack of talent – he says “I went to sleep
a poet and I woke up a fraud”
the line just
signifies the phases
of waking
and sleeping
tumbling into destruction and
reviving yourself from its ashes.
lengthening the
word as if it changes
as if another single phrase could
make your work original
and unintelligibly brilliant
as if another phrase could open someone’s eyes
and let them scream from
enlightenment.
let them live their lie
just like you live yours
pretending that your page is everything except
blank.