Oct
26
2003

I like using words in proper context, but in an odd manner

Me? Cynical and unable to stand the company of others for an extended period of time? NEVER!

I’ve been looking over the school books, figuring out what classes i need to take, what i’m going to be doing for the rest of my life. I”ve pretty much rested on …….

LEGAL SECRETARY!

I know, it’s sort of, um, anti climatic. But the Certification is only four credit hours long. Basically, while i’m taking the first one, I can dick around and take whatever classes I want. Ten credit hours of WHATEVER I want! Isn’t that the awesomest? Sure, some of it is stuff that i’m going to need to be a good secretary (that is, filing and stuff like that… :) Sure, it’s not special stuff, but then i can take the psychology classes, and the Lit classes that i wanted to, but not be pressured into a major–

Give me some time, i can find the lazy way through anything. ANYTHING.

Sure, i may be selling myself short (Legal secretary? C’mon, you’re a genius writer Meryl, you could do so much more…) But I find myself sorta– dried up in the wya of poetry. All of it comes out in the way of …. really bad angsty teen poetry.

and I hate angsty teen poetry. So While I’m not going to toss any of it, I”m also not looking to be published either. Cause it sucks– and anyone who says otherwise, well– they’re trying to make me feel good…. so thanks, but I’d prefer the truth. :)

So on that note, i’d like to end with a poem. 😉 Oh, and this is total slam impormpty poetry…. so flame me, but once again, i’m not going to feel very badly since i know it sucks.

The icy touch
stinging
ripping
pulling my
mind apart
and it stays
buzzing
ringing
whispering
to my mind
unknown to my ears
impossible to know
what keeps it there
Insanity slowly grips my
body
as i come to realize
and loose this all
what was
never could be
facing backward
in an downward
movement elevator
and my brain
shudders
in an orgasm of thought
shaking me
violently
stopping all other action
and I SCREAM
Leaving the blood clots
on the dainty white doilies
and every time
my head fills to the brim
stretching
reaching out to you
to why
it ended
i’m back
where i ended
not knowing
but i keep reaching
touching the blood stained
walls
hoping to remember
what never was
and could only be
some deluded fantasy
my over ridden mind
produced

Derringer Meryl [The orgasm of thought] Out

Written by admin in: poetry | Tags: , ,

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