So, I saw the banner about the poetry contest on the main page… I didn’t really notice the part about the contest, because I really don’t care to win anything at all. I actually already won by simply writing this piece, because by the time I was done I felt a little less heavy on my shoulders. That’s good enough for me, man. It’s a wonder to me just how many ways there are in the world to accumulate and relieve pressure. It’s never-ending…
Anyhow, in case you’re interested at all, I’ve re-posted what I wrote right here in this blog. Read freely. Maybe it could express something for some of those/you that couldn’t quite figure out the words at the right time. Who knows. Catch you on the flipside.
PRICK.
(©2008 by Travis A., All Rights Reserved)
Prick.
Nothing.
Prick.
Now it flows.
Finally some mockery of knowledge for
all the holes and misfires that always sting,
regardless of any yield.
To a street corner hugging junkie
I compare the similarities we share most often…
One of habits.
Two of shame.
Three of this redundant hope to feel the best I’ll ever feel in my life again.
Four on the floor in a cold sweat.
I’ve seen the light that blinds me,
but not that which is translated by dilating pupils…
It’s the kind that comes from within.
The kind that scares you worse than an interrogation
in the presence of fearful, uninformed, power-hungry men.
Feed me. Feed me.
So I give in…
Just a taste.
I’ve missed you.
It’s only been 180 minutes, but
I craved you more than the thought
of longevity itself.
It’s sad to know that my own lover
could be the death of me.
It’s maddening to know that my death could
come from this hand to mouth life that loves me more…
Exhausted.
Complacent.
Manic, anxious.
No…
Endless lists of adjectives
could still never describe properly these
defining moments that wake me up in the middle
of my sloth at midday, just to announce that I’m hung over.
But, I don’t drink…
I’m an untied shoelace
waiting to trip myself.
I am the loosely laced shoe choking my ankles
until I can’t feel the ground.
I am the socks on these legs, too numb to think that
making moves now will take me anywhere safe, before the gates close.
I am the limb that holds me down now.
Prick.