Submitted by Lifted_Duchess on Wed, 01/15/2014 - 6:40am
It was rather beautiful: the way he put her insecurities to sleep.
The way he dove into her eyes and starved all the fears and
tasted all the dreams she kept coiled beneath her bones.
Comments
At first I thought this was a cannibal's love ballad, but now I dont know what to think.
Later, after sex, he grew bored and restless, seeking new sex with the next naive beautiful young insecure chick he could convince that he is a magic man.
Back in the day, people actually smoked pot and wondered about things. Like the universe, how our minds work, what doesn't make sense but remains true. But now it's poetry?
We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?
PS: i'm fucking psyched this made it to the front page, i love this, god bless this little lady
Couldn't have said it better myself :)
It's great to explore the possibilities of the universe, scientific theories, the mind.. But I am of the belief that those things are pointless if one does not also explore the vast complexities of the soul.
But this is highdeas not edgarallanpoe.com
StonerPrawn... If from this one post on highDEAs, you are assuming that poetry is the ONLY thing on my mind after I've "smoked pot", you would be incorrect.
Now, I'm not going to take my time explaining to you that among poetry, I also spend time pondering space, aliens, new technology, music, programming, networking, relationships, how the world works, when, and how, the world will end, how to help better my child, my family, the meaning of life, religion, why women wear so much make-up, why people choose to be so quick to judge...
And, by golly, sometimes I even spend my time watching PORN! And thinking about SEX! =O
I will, however, take the time to ask you this one simple question... If it's my life, why not poetry?
I'm not. Lol. I can read this "writing" in the trashy novels at Walmart.
I've said it once and I'll say it again.... I hate bullshit teenage poetry.
it was quite beautiful: the way he pulled out the triple chocolate cake,
the smell that soothed the tastebuds, leaving the mouth watery
only to savor the sweet whipped frosting and moist bread
that satisfyed my stoner ass
This was a pleasant surprise to find this mixed in on here! Quite beautiful..
This vaguely reminds me of an author called Richard Brautigan. If you've not heard of him, I severely recommend the book called Loading Mercury with a Pitchfork (free and easy to read at Brautigan.net). I enjoyed the poem, by the way. Thank you for posting this.
