old poetry that is neither wonderful nor terrible

Back in the day, I used to write poetry all the time.  Some of it was pretty awful, as I’m pretty sure is mandatory for teenagers.  But some of it was, looking back, kind of amazing.  I don’t know how or why, but back then phrases would just pop into my mind and stick there, repeating until I wrote them out.  Entranced, I would write and words would flow rhythmically, somewhat meaninglessly.  It doesn’t work like that anymore.  I’m trying to get back into the habit, to regain lost talent, but it doesn’t work like that anymore.

But in the spirit of inspiration, I am posting the four last good poems I wrote.  Of course, “good” is a matter of opinion but in my opinion they’re at least not bad.  Whatever.

z bee

Sexual Identity

A face in the mirror
Alive with livid
Lightning fury
In the mirror, a face
Two eyes, a mouth and two lips
A smile where it splits
Grimacing so tightly
That blood and saliva
Secrete in secret
From the teeth
Sweat slowly
Drips down the drain

Body and face
Form and forum
A medium for procreation
One way, right way
Wrong way, let’s say
It’s my way or no way
But pleasure and passion
Prove to be more
Than mechanical, fast
Loveless masturbation
Or, for that fact,
Population procreation
Versus recreation

Black on black
On white on white
Everything else
Merits valid, too
The hard on the hard

Or the desire for satisfaction
The label on your skin
Might not match your soul
Sold for simple science
Rather than all of mankind
What is emotion and love
In the face of abject
Asexual identity?

z woods

The Endless Expanse

Through the window
As far as the eye can see
As far as I can see
Uninterrupted prosperity
In the form of space and field
And forestry
The mountains in the distance
Meadows splayed out for miles
Before, and the sky above
Endlessly blue is endlessly grey
Purple, and gold
Where all is dark and dreary
But from behind the curtain
Like hope, is light shining ferociously
The world is glowing
All is passing by, so fast
So fearful that forever isn’t long enough
For me. For you. For always.

And it still keeps on going
That endless expanse
Of unadulterated wildness
Dreaming of something forlorn
Forgotten, the fields, the woods
Subconcious longing, primal almost
Calling me in, intoxicating me
Drawing me into its eternal rancor
Rapturous, I still calmly sit
Watching that world pass me by
Wanting nothing more, with all my heart,
Than to fade into the uniterrupted
Endless expanse so close but so far
The endless expanse
Beyond where my vision falls
Beyond the latent, subtle senses
So often unnoticed
Where all I can feel
Is pure life

z fog

I hate your face

I hate your face
Your rounded, splendid
Slightly sharpened ugly face
It has nothing
To do with race
I just…
I really hate your face

On the street
Or elsewhere, where ever
I go, strangers have your face
Formless deformity
Longevity lingers
You, crawling along at your
Literally leisurely pace
Don’t touch me
I don’t know you and
I don’t want to know you
Who are you?
Don’t talk to me
I like to have my space

Here you are
Existing a slimy shallow
Existence, finding meaning
In the small things
The good things
Holding on tenderly
Treasuring memory
Awash in a sea of emotion
Things are set in motion
With one last look
You remain in place

You’re a seething mass of selfishness
And stupidity
Pettiness and obscurity
A clash of culture and class
Diplomacy and hypocrisy
Vapid and inconsequential
Disconnected from the
Lines we trace
This is a love
It goes on for miles
And endures for epochs
An epic evolution
A spectator sport of sorts
A battle through time
I am a part of
And apart from
Wherever, whenever
I still fucking
Hate your face

z forest

What do you Think about

The streets are grey and black
And slick with the falling rain
In the late night
The streetlights are dimly lit
Calling your name is the city
Jutting into the sky

On doorsteps of businesses
Sleep men and their dogs
In tattered blankets and bags
Huddled in a malodorous mess
Hoping no one will see
Or hoping they will

Every so often
A lonely car will pass by
The driver watching suspiciously
As nighttime rolls past
And then the sound of crunching gravel
Is out of earshot

Music plays from inside bars
As patrons drink away the day
Strip clubs where desperate women
Please desperate men
In desperation, to their vices
People cling so desperately

The buses aren’t running
You walk past the stop
Where a girl is still waiting
But not for the bus
Her baby is crying
“It’s okay” she says to it

At night, the buildings are dark
Humbled by a lack of awe
Patiently awaiting someone to notice them
And marvel at their might
As in their shadows
Alley-cats hunt

Rain keeps on falling
Steadfast and righteous
Running down roads in hopes that the Earth
Will swallow it up
But instead dropping down drains
And drowning to death

Your boots splash as you walk by
Stalking the night for something
Your wet hair plastered around your face
Striking the city with every step
Searching that Saturday night

z moon


About MurasakiOkapi

Work has taken over a huge portion of my life in recent years, but I am trying hard to get back in the habit of being at least marginally creative on a semi-regular basis. Other than that, I'm a nature enthusiast and love all animals. I try to see things from many perspectives, and live on the sustainable side. I wouldn't say I'm a positive person, but at the same time I don't tend to get too down about things.
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