"yossarian" poems
Darkness calls on us like the Siren's Song,
with the optimism of Candide, we charge on
because we know "things are exactly how they should be,"
But we're ignoring the fact that we cannot see!
We cannot be free!
No wonder Yossarian went so **** crazy,
trapped with no way out...
Like the old woman protecting her individuality in her burning house.
In this day and age,
Individuality burns out faster than paper in flames.
As fragile as Hamlet's mental state,
**** it's gone.
We're left as scared and self-conscious as J. Alfred Prufrock.
Questioning ourselves,
We don't dare disturb the universe.
Forced back by scrutinizing hands
through the shrunken entrances of our comfort zones,
Left torn and scarred
because they don't accept who we are.
I walk the halls with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern,
Watch identity evaporate without concern.
Ignorant voices, the poison dripping into my ears.
I walk the halls a ghost.
They think I'm weird,
Maybe a few screws loose,
but I'll tell you what...
"Crazy" Orr is the one who escaped Catch-22.
Though I fear there is not an Odysseus within all of us,
I fear we are not prepared.
For when Darkness calls on us like the Siren's Song,
temptation is seldom overcome.
6/13/14
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
When the Seattle rain falls and
Pings on the mailbox --
The chill outside jostling the
Doorknob to find it locked --
Our rooms will be grey with overcast.
The TV will hum and thrum, and
Fuzz around our heads
While the ***** socks lay off
The foot of the bed
With us buried deep inside.
Her glistening eyes will sit inches
From mine, gingerbread
And coffee dripping in thick caramel
From which the gloom fled
Like tsunamis back out the windows,
and
Like braille under my fingertips I'll feel
The goosebumps of her skin,
And we'll lay here like it's the place
We've always been, with Yossarian's
Tail thumping the floor.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
I swear we were loosing it.
How can you expect a regular man
To last longer than a week
Alone
On an island of sanity
Amid an ocean or insanity?
How could you expect me to zip my mouth up
Like a woman's dress
And keep calm about my situation?
How could you let me count off the numbers
Only to put them back once again?
How could you think
That white walls
And impertinent lies
Could mask the suffering fear
Swelling inside of me?
How could you touch me
With those cold unfeeling hands
As my friends washed up on the shore
More dead than they ever could have been?
How could you lay me out in the sun,
Watch crimes unfold
While you still expected me to be a regular man once home?
In that moment
With the knife lingering over my scalp,
I made a decision to get the Hell out
And I have no regrets regarding it.
You can chase me down:
Scream at me,
Rap your knuckles at my door.
I'll tell you to put it where the sun don't shine
Along with a dishonorable Section 8 discharge
And the little bits of my decrepit sanity.
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
We've been reading Catch 22 in English
Everyone thinks Yossarian is crazy
But normal is relative
And he's relatively normal to me
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 4:24 AM UTC
Perhaps,
I should have assumed,
This love would expire
As they always do.
I can't help but ache
For all I want is you,
But though I try to mend
I tend to inflict wounds.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
If I were Yossarian, I'd sail into the distant sea
I would make a mockery of my plight
I would set sail
I would become me
Water trickles off the roof
The droplets soothe me
And in this moment I do not feel free
What is it that I am trying to escape?
Is it me?
Flowers blooming lovers swooning
set me free
I hate who I am
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 11:04 PM UTC