'YOU'RE NO PROPHET (YOU'RE BARELY A POET)', BY PERSON I
"O woe, O why--" --O what a way to live!
Never finding what you hunt, scarcely saying what you mean,
with the audacity to worship those who can;
adoring all that's good, or brave, or noble; learning nothing.
Shameless indignity is the boldest you get:
compare them speaking their hearts against
the postmodern cowardice in all that you are.
Language is a gift you abuse:
you may as well have abandoned your voice;
paragraphs wasted on your camouflage of choice.
Half-built cities on foundations of beige-coloured water --
you keep the imagery pretty and the metaphor alluding to just about anything.
You're scared to speak if it's not been said before.
You're ashamed to speak if it's all been said before.
Reluctant to be original! Embarrassed to be derivative!
The shame is in the fact you don't bother!!
Would you say it matters if it's all been thought before?
Voiced before? Done before? Does it wound your pride
to know that your actions are barely yours?
Does it shatter your resolve, seeing your face in my words?
Omit the omnipresent and stay oblivious to obvious.
Can we call it thorough? -- this solitary hunt for truth?
-- almost commendable, almost fruitful,
had you only checked the blind-spot under your nostrils.
'MEANWHILE, IN THE OUTSIDE WORLD...', BY PERSON II
So... 'just shut up and say it'? Wow, noted. Thanks.
Tonight's been a blast.
You'd hate it.
based on a largely self-deprecating hypothesis that you can either be either emotionally available or actually fun to be around (i.e. what do you hold in higher regard, your compassion or your company?) - i'd love to be wrong on this one. i'd like to actually be both. churned this out in half an hour and yiiiikes it shows. remember, kids, to make fun of yourself at least a little bit BEFORE aiming your rage @ anyone who doesn't live the way you do (or, uh, do it afterwards. tomato/tomato.) mighty easy to get angry at your polar opposite but life's infinitely duller without them.
