just past midnight

an old, never posted, poem from 2005?

eyes are dry

heart is weary

 

nah...not that sad tonight

just sleepy

 

school work beckons

my creativity won’t allow my brain to respond

my soul recoils from boorish instructors

and boring details

 

i want to roll naked in paint

i want to roll naked

but it’s cold

 

and i’m alone

with a bunch of warm fur

 

guess that’s not so bad

 

i want to make my photographs dance

i want to feel as though i’m in a trance

i want to be taken to that place

where i take my lovers

 

so i’ve eaten chocolate

pumkin pie

drank cocoa with whipped cream

 

i’ve watched Nip Tuck

the crappy news

 

still waiting for that full moon

 

candles are burning

so is my imagination

hours have been lost

reading what i don’t want to read

writing what i don’t want to write

to appease those i don’t care to appease

 

WHY?

 

i dunno

does anyone have an answer to that global question?

 

some kid is reciting drug names on TV

click

 

f**k off all of you haters

you’re polluting my artistic air

Author's Note

i think it's crappy...prolly why i never posted it

Reviews

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Inspiration's all around us, but sometimes other things block the wavelength. This poem is an artists' life, a writer's life; we try to dig something good out of the rubble. I really like the poem; it's not crappy at all :)