The Pendulum Swings
The Pendulum Swings
A shot rings out
the sound decays to meaningless echo
the remains are a sudden silence
we all breath in
till there's nothing left to hold
you'll wake
in the soft darkness of a city pre-dawn
in the warmth of your soft bed
amid the scents and sounds of secure slumber
hear the rise and fall of the sleeper next to you
romance the clean silence
the pureness of a field with new-fallen snow
forget the violence that got us here
forget the degradation thereafter
we all breath out
till there's nothing left to give
startled from sleep
in the pregnant velvet darkness you'll perceive hidden dangers
in the smothering tangle of damp sheets and icy air of your room
amid the sweaty fear of uncontrollable dreams
hear the name you once uttered ring through your ears
i'm not as satisfied with this one as i have been with some others.
i think that of the last eleven written, this one needs the most work.
(forget that whole one about procrastination, its embarrassing and ugly)
i dont know if i want to refine this one here though
i think i might use it as meditation for another one to write for this month
i miss having an entire poetry class to workshop my shit for me
its not the same as having others who happen to like poetry read and make comments
when its a crowd of a dozen or so other would-be poets who all have a vested interest in making your work better in exchange for you making their work better
there was a sense of collective fate, not kismet or destiny
both of which are cliche, but a tying together of interests
as Simon and Garfunkel were wont to say, "lets marry out futures together"
like that.
overall, i want to say that many of my best poems, most spontaneous least forced,
were written because i was assigned to write them for a grade
and i wrote them, like i wrote my master's thesis,
by sitting around doing other things, like making money to pay bills, and let ideas stew
and then at some point grabbed some scratch paper and scribbled something passable down
everything after that was polished through the help and effort of others.
A shot rings out
the sound decays to meaningless echo
the remains are a sudden silence
we all breath in
till there's nothing left to hold
you'll wake
in the soft darkness of a city pre-dawn
in the warmth of your soft bed
amid the scents and sounds of secure slumber
hear the rise and fall of the sleeper next to you
romance the clean silence
the pureness of a field with new-fallen snow
forget the violence that got us here
forget the degradation thereafter
we all breath out
till there's nothing left to give
startled from sleep
in the pregnant velvet darkness you'll perceive hidden dangers
in the smothering tangle of damp sheets and icy air of your room
amid the sweaty fear of uncontrollable dreams
hear the name you once uttered ring through your ears
i'm not as satisfied with this one as i have been with some others.
i think that of the last eleven written, this one needs the most work.
(forget that whole one about procrastination, its embarrassing and ugly)
i dont know if i want to refine this one here though
i think i might use it as meditation for another one to write for this month
i miss having an entire poetry class to workshop my shit for me
its not the same as having others who happen to like poetry read and make comments
when its a crowd of a dozen or so other would-be poets who all have a vested interest in making your work better in exchange for you making their work better
there was a sense of collective fate, not kismet or destiny
both of which are cliche, but a tying together of interests
as Simon and Garfunkel were wont to say, "lets marry out futures together"
like that.
overall, i want to say that many of my best poems, most spontaneous least forced,
were written because i was assigned to write them for a grade
and i wrote them, like i wrote my master's thesis,
by sitting around doing other things, like making money to pay bills, and let ideas stew
and then at some point grabbed some scratch paper and scribbled something passable down
everything after that was polished through the help and effort of others.