Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2018
come to think of it,
   i was never looking for fame -
well...
   perhaps posthumous "fame"...
a testimony of endurance,
just like what those
Jewish dry-cleaners told
Bukowski in New York
when he just embarked on
a writing spree;
they said:
    'perhaps you'll be famous,
when you're dead'...
plenty of stars in the night
sky to avoid a dead star,
a black hole, an attention
seeking-***** down to earth,
where the only light
orientated about it comes
from paparazzi camera
flashes...
    me? come the winter
months, i walk the streets like
i walk the red carpet -
you ever peer at the frost
on cement, tilting your head
from left, to right?
see the frost crystals imitate
paparazzi camera flashes?
never mind that...
  instead of fame,
i came looking for a brick...
yes, a brick...
          i figured...
well i'm already part of this
grand stronghold,
this civilization-project,
  this... house...
      and i can't exactly be much
outside of it...
   a brick is a brick is a brick
is a wall...
    sooner or later
a tile is a tile is a roof...
                  there aren't exactly
any stand-out bricks
concerning what constitutes
a wall...
         oh no... this is not some
pink floyd propaganda -
the whole concept falls under
the "guise":
    belonging -
        or at least a stepping stone
to some greater depths,
heights and, inevitably,
nonsense...
                   kings and queens
emperors and presidents will
always be the hovering
center stone of the pyramid -
but then again who needs
to look at a pyramid?
             history topples pyramids,
where we're all standing
naked, side-by-side,
brick next to a brick...
and to imitate a pyramid -
after enough time,
  100 years... and in those
100 years the people that made
the 100 years...
   we get stacked...
    so what the hell is fame
these days?
       Madonna has moved away
from fame,
and began investing in
a continuity of relevance -
so fame is only half of the coin
flip...
      and sure as ****...
big difference between... ugh...
"loser" and... recluse...
     romancing the monkish
affair, in out-suburbia...
     all the time in the world -
after all... ingesting reverse
numbers of read, subscribed,
viewed, etc...
                can that really be
the motivational principle?
   the vector for....   what?!
the people who feed off these
criteria... i've noticed it a few days
ago...
                they can never
make enough content...
they make a limited amount
of content, to boost their views,
shares, reads, etc.,
  number junkies...
     my intention?
     well... last night i gave my foxy
friend Brody so much spare
food that today he's sleeping
it off...
                pork rib bones to boot...
didn't bother showing up today...
strange...
   a wild animal, so trustworthy...
other people would deem
him a vermin... and tempt him
with a bowl of food with
some rat poison in it...
anyway...
              a loose metaphor of
what people post online...
    evidently some people have
8 children while others have
over 10 thousand poems -
fertility of a meta-sort....
        enough content to exhaust
an audience...
   but there are some who pray
on limited content
for the numbers...
   as i am, playing the numbers
game... when i reach 20 thousand
poems, hell...
   there's Paradise Lost to be read,
there's the Ezra Pound Cantos...
you name it...
     i'm not bothered because
i know how reading habits come
and go...
    with videos you can have
a passive, overtly reactionary audience,
hence the large numbers...
  reading is a bit like
playing a ******* cello...
you're never actually playing it,
always practicing...
            so no...
i'm not looking for fame -
   that party is already congested
with reality t.v. "stars" who
eat rather than give off light...
****... i hate to say it
Jesus -esque...
            i'm looking for a brick...
and a function of
ensuring the wall doesn't
fall down because, just in case,
something crucial might be missing;
e.g. no. 1:
i might be drinking,
might be semi-drunk...
but look at the spelling...
see anything?
   sober as a ******* yak
during the months outside
of the mating bonanza...
let's face it...
             there have to be certain
rules... coherency (in the plural
form: coherencies).
Mateuš Conrad
Written by
Mateuš Conrad  36/M/Essex (England)
(36/M/Essex (England))   
203
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems