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Post by John Yamrus on Jun 24, 2007 1:21:05 GMT -5
imagine Freddy Kreuger
with a dash of Howdy Doody thrown in.
he almost never sits.
he just stands and stares at you, and walks up behind you silently, saying nothing, just staring at the back of yr neck.
he has a collection of ladies silk panties which he pins to a cork board in his bedroom.
he thinks sylvia plath is a god.
he cuts his own hair, trims the sleeves off his shirts and uses a rope for a belt.
and hasn't had a beer ever. he’s afraid it'll make him lose control.
to hear him tell it he’s god’s gift to women and absolute hell in a fight.
i don’t understand it.
he never goes anywhere. you never see him with anyone... he never does anything except walk up behind you and stare.
it’s obvious his life is screwed up and the parts he tells you about are fiction. but, for some strange reason he thinks he’s got everyone fooled.
and yet, i want to tell him it’s okay. we’re all screwed in the head...
we’ve all told our own little fictions...
i just want to tell him it’s okay, pal... living and dying’s easy... it’s the rest of it that wears you down.
so you go ahead and do whatever you think it takes to get you through... only the next time i find you staring at me like that i’m going to poke your eyes out with a stick.
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Post by Dunstan Attard on Jun 24, 2007 9:33:37 GMT -5
enjoyed the beat, the mental contasts and greys that stimulate creative process in this reader...had to struggle through the middle part on first reading but the second reading flowed easily...i think a reader must appraoch any poem worth its salt with deliberate commitment.
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Post by Shell on Jun 28, 2007 7:49:28 GMT -5
This is magnificent. I don't know if there's a difference, in the bigger picture, between genocide and individual cruelty ... other than our perceptions based on scale rather than truth.
This poem reminds me how complex life is, how we feed on our own worst qualities. How in some ways we all have this character inside us because we're all a mess, it's just some hide it better ...
Because of the penultimate verse this is also an awesomely compassionate poem PLUS your wry humour, which I adore, brings this back down to Earth too.
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Post by robertrwoods on Jun 28, 2007 15:34:33 GMT -5
Simply amazing, JohnY. As always there's such simple but complete rhythm to this piece. The journey is an interesting one to an end that always catches me by surpise yet is always true to the footprints you left behind.
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Post by Bobby Slais on Jul 17, 2007 21:14:31 GMT -5
Superbly interesting in the premise and the verse. There are a lot of lines in this that just made me emotionalize, I think my fave astrophe was...
[quoteand hasn't had a beer ever. he’s afraid it'll make him lose control. [/quote]
Entertaining indeed, thanks for sharing this!
Bobby
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