#replacements - Hello Poetry

Adam! turn me over and sing me a song of sixpence hearing voices, not seeing faces ... with the radio on it's just me myself and I driving between towns emoting, gushing *hurt me, break me, **** me!* at the top of my lungs finding bars buried in backyards on back roads of insincerity birch bitten and chewed logs wet and rotten and still, chords neatly stacked in ordered rows can you stand me on my feet? back home brushing my teeth yellow biting my nails turgid, hoping she will come with me to a show my state is of a lower-class shambling hoping for a renewal or rebirth sweating on the train repeating God's name gasping for air making people nervous staring at their phones wondering if I am going to keel over and die it's just me myself and I that's right, write it out in long hand first, then go back and edit (wishing to write like Tarkovsky) comparing father and son - an unchecked exception they were buried in separate coffins one in France the other, in a timber cask but won't I be too? I wish I could say, "we have a saying in my country" or "scripture says" or "I'm lost without you" (I am and now found). In ruins at the end of a day building pigeon flap (or come what may) ascending a scale of notes in a mirror of songs behold an image in a scale of descending notes at dawn.

0

Jan 29, 2016

Jan 29, 2016 at 2:25 AM UTC

jiminy-littly

Poetry in a Mirror

Adam! turn me over and sing me a song of sixpence hearing voices, not seeing faces ... with the radio on it's just me myself and I driving between towns emoting, gushing *hurt me, break me, **** me!* at the top of my lungs finding bars buried in backyards on back roads of insincerity birch bitten and chewed logs wet and rotten and still, chords neatly stacked in ordered rows can you stand me on my feet? back home brushing my teeth yellow biting my nails turgid, hoping she will come with me to a show my state is of a lower-class shambling hoping for a renewal or rebirth sweating on the train repeating God's name gasping for air making people nervous staring at their phones wondering if I am going to keel over and die it's just me myself and I that's right, write it out in long hand first, then go back and edit (wishing to write like Tarkovsky) comparing father and son - an unchecked exception they were buried in separate coffins one in France the other, in a timber cask but won't I be too? I wish I could say, "we have a saying in my country" or "scripture says" or "I'm lost without you" (I am and now found). In ruins at the end of a day building pigeon flap (or come what may) ascending a scale of notes in a mirror of songs behold an image in a scale of descending notes at dawn.

37

I don't know about you but, I look for you in everyone. I keep looking around this new school for someone who like looks like you, or acts like you, or talks like you, or walks like you, and there's no one.

0

Mar 9, 2016

Mar 9, 2016 at 8:27 AM UTC

saniyya

Searching

I don't know about you but, I look for you in everyone. I keep looking around this new school for someone who like looks like you, or acts like you, or talks like you, or walks like you, and there's no one.

3

The little boy left his soccer ball on the field, perhaps to be kicked around later, only to find it missing. And it was a gift from dad. So dad bought him a new one, and the little boy decided to keep it in the trunk, and never play with it. And he just picked up another hobby. Years later, he found his soccer ball- deflated. So he went out and bought a new one.

0

Nov 13, 2014

Nov 13, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC

tntcl

Values

The little boy left his soccer ball on the field, perhaps to be kicked around later, only to find it missing. And it was a gift from dad. So dad bought him a new one, and the little boy decided to keep it in the trunk, and never play with it. And he just picked up another hobby. Years later, he found his soccer ball- deflated. So he went out and bought a new one.

11