Strangeination’s Weblog


Real Shit
August 26, 2009, 1:10 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I am a Farce.

A Fraud.

A Ball of pretentious emotion

And bottled up rage

Bubbling over

And corroding your counter tops.

I fill in the cracks

And seethe through your silent reading.

I disrupt your train of thought

With my melancholy enchantment.

 I am a Farce.

A fanatically inclined

Judgmental narcissist

Neurotic and alone.

I will devour your calm demeanor

And use your playfully chosen words

Against you.

I am not a dream.

I am not a fantasy.

I am a Farce.



Wasted
July 17, 2008, 1:55 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , , , ,

I feel stagnate and stale

My potential is drifting away like chunks of ice from a glacier.

My keystrokes increase and my creativity dwindles

I’m lifeless, floating from one task to another

And never discovering my voice.



The Source
May 7, 2008, 11:31 pm
Filed under: Poetry | Tags: , ,

Why does it eat at me,

Why? Why do I feel the need so badly.

It’s persistent, as if life were about to end,

As if my only contribution could be________.

My only contribution hangs in the balance,

When I think about the pain, the struggles, the misunderstanding,

and undue influence, the mistreatment and sacrifice

That this one thing will carry forever.

 

Why does it eat at me?

I am a young women, not old, not past her time.

I still have a chance, many opportunities to try,

To become a better woman, mother , friend.

So why does it eat at me. It is not mine,

Not my longing that creates the need to conceive,

But something else.

Something that eats at me, and begs me–

When? When? WHEN?

When will you contribute me?



To start
April 16, 2008, 1:24 am
Filed under: Poetry | Tags:

Underneath it all

You know I’m just the same

Scared little girl

Taking walks in the rain.

With my light brown hair

And my dark blue eyes

There’s nothing so sacred

As a woman’s disguise.



Apartment B
April 16, 2008, 1:20 am
Filed under: Poetry | Tags:

Third floor

I know where to find you.

The key

Under the mat.

Inside the pale of morning,

The window sile– the cat.

Asleep upon the couch

With hands behind your head

–It’s better while you rest you know–

I wonder why?-you said.

You lie and I see no fault

You speak and I have a list.

But now in the stillness,

You’re covered in the mist.

I begin with the bacon,

The eggs–not too hard.

Out the window-summertime,

Below-a rich man’s yard.

I can hear you start to stir

Grinding your teeth- and awake-

I look over and you smile,

I hold out your plate.

Sprawled out, you stretch, and rise

Coming over to the bar.

A kiss -good morning- so sweet,

Afternoon not too far.



Secretly
April 16, 2008, 1:14 am
Filed under: Poetry | Tags:

Secretly I preferred it

Silence and Fear.

Watching from the window

As you walk off.

Rain shaping the contours

Of your face,

Like some great Greek statue

That refuses to admit

     how much he needs the sun.



Ventriloquism
April 16, 2008, 1:13 am
Filed under: Poetry | Tags:

Who am I

but myself

If you are my puppet

Then I am your Fool.

Sure I own you

But you have made me what I am.

I have directed you

And you have stolen the show.