Shhhhh

Old poem, but just recorded me reading, so hopefully won't be spam.

I'll probably wake up sobbing again tomorrow
Don't mind my drunken confessions
I have the tolerance of a gnat
But the emotional girth of an elephant
Weighing my light body down
That's my tragedy I suppose
If I were to be dramatic
Though drama emits catharsis
Drama is meaning and beauty - creation
In short: not me
In other words
I'm love sick
Sick for it
Sick with it
Sick in its absence
Just straight fuckn sick
Don't mind my vulgarity
It is what one uses
When convention fails
Expletives are the outcasts in language
They wear leather and smoke all night
While the rest of the dictionary
Sleep, pay taxes, and attend PTA meetings
Profane words are death row inmates
Offering their final translucent confessions
Stripped of pomp or rhetoric
S**t. Mierde. Hijo de la puta madre.
There I go again
It's late and I'm on my third drink
And am becoming vaguely beautiful
In spite of the tarantula
Crawling inside me, through me
Its prickly legs sprawling
Its ugliness spreading
Until I feel like clawing
Clawing at my breast
To get it out
Get it out!
Anyhow, I'll let you sleep
Shhhhh....shhhhh....
it's fine, really
Come morning I will sob on my stoli-scented pillow
While others yawn and smack their alarm clocks...

Author's Note

I stole the title from one of I.R. poems, but it's apt, for various reasons.






Also, the song I have been told is mistakingly attributed to Perfect Circle but is actually Ashe.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

I don't know if this one was written under the influence, but it has that sound, and I don't mean that as a criticism. The spirits can cause us to ramble, and I get something of that here. Really good imagery, especially that concerning profanity. Do hope the morning after this one wasn't too painful. Good work.

[Alessander]

ah, good the spirits come across! That was what I was going for.
Vodka mornings are always the worst, which is why I just stick to whiskey now lol
Thx for reading.

[Liza]

your intensity and passion - passive aggression for some reason is swirling upon my senses - but maybe its the mixture of me reading you...these lines hit home

I have the tolerance of a gnat
But the emotional girth of an elephant
Weighing my light body down

you are one poet i would love to see show a video in spoken word...

[Jennifer C]

I really love the idea of writing the same emotions in a different poem entirely delivered through the metaphor of the curse words as the outcasts. I love the idea of personifying sects of language. Also, if you wrote the poem in complete metaphor you wouldn't have to apologize for your vulgarity.
Lastly, at the end, the line "it's fine, really," feels soft. I know it's meant to evoke the real emotion by actually veiling it but showing the actual emotion without a veil has a more evocative effect. If you want to have a tantrum, have one, make it huge. If you want to be dramatic, do it. And make it gut wrenching. Scream and holler and stomp. Don't mask the sound. Whatever the little spider inside you is crawling for, it'll be clear after the room falls silent.

[Julie Deshtor]

Blin! (mild Russian cuss word, indicating great degree of approval)
You, my dear, force me to actually appreciate - what do you Westerners call it? - blank verse. And that's saying a lot.
It's not a compliment, I don't do compliments.

The piece literally reeks of emotions, "Don't mind my drunken confessions", "It's late and I'm on my third drink
And am becoming vaguely beautiful", there are just too many lines to mention. The descriptive language is evocative: "They wear leather and smoke all night", "Come morning I will sob on my stoli-scented pillow." Moreover, you engage multiple sense at once, making one smell, see, hear, and feel every word.

[George Love]

You express yourself wonderfully, even with the vulgarity. Nicely done.

[Lola Nation]

they do not attend pta meetings, you made that up.

I think it needs a spell check, or i do.

[Erotic Goddess]

Don't mind my vulgarity
It is what one uses
When convention fails
Expletives are the outcasts in language

As a writer...this part was absolutely genius for me...language so colorful and so...outcast...perfectly described...

This was fast paced and the language was sexy...I made it through the whole ride...and never fell off once.

xxoxx

[J.P. Bristow]

Come morning I will sob on my stoli-scented pillow
While others yawn and smack their alarm clocks...


Brilliant-this was my favorite work of yours to date....and that line an emotional girth of an elephant boy you have been inspired of late and I am loving your choice in language.

[Bubo]

The sodding emotion we call love, that often causes more pain and confusion than anything else..........I so loved this piece, very cleverly written, quirks ( i love quirks), and a real hammering home that love sucks.

In other words
I'm love sick
Sick for it
Sick with it
Sick in its absence
Just straight fuckn sick

Absolutely great stuff, raw.

[Alice_In_WhateverLand]

This piece is very, very good :) I enjoyed reading it, and your use of metaphors is great!! A lot of people feel this way, and you got that across beautifully :) thanks for sharing!

[Sara Mercury]

Yes, I will agree with the lot of 'em; you do have a way with the metaphors here. I love this piece. It doesn't rhyme at all, but it doesn't have to. This type of verse is grand just the way it is, because it comes from your very own soul. I might well think you a songwriter. I can hear sadness and frustration in there somewhere. Perhaps you just need to find somebody to love...?