13. 09. 09

ONE

 

en masse, people make no sense

and too much noise

the individual is devoured

in a gulp of instinct

mutated through lack of use

 

recording the moment

because living in it

is out of fashion

for now

for ever [?]

 

the purpose we no longer have

ceases to bother a species

building itself out of existence

 

and the words don’t matter

so long as the beat invokes

                                violence

 

the hunted, the hunter

                                we gather evolutionary standstill

                                and stick it on a T-shirt

 

why can I taste bullshit

                in my mouth?

 

what was once beautiful

has become ugly

by being too pretty

                                and its death vibrates beneath our feet

 

it isn’t hard to write an anthem

but reality is less than catchy

and doesn’t sell magazines

 

                           …except The Big Issue

 

 

TWO

 

we all cringe inwards

too afraid to talk to one another

but what’s the worst that could happen

outright rejection �" did it hurt from the womb?

only the hippie kids are wide open

because their parents instilled confidence

just by listening, just by acceptance

or maybe it’s the clothes they were forced to wear

first day of primary school

shrugging off hand-knitted multi-colours

from there the only way is up up up

like an escapee helium balloon

 

oh the crowd

I want to throw myself at their feet

and mercy

screaming

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME

just to see what the reply might be

except I know what would happen

they’d judge me for everything I am not

and sneer at everything I am

because ugliness has been branded

and surrounded by boundaries

they’d say I’ve taken it a high wall too far

but all those people who claimed to feel the same way

where are they?

here with their friends

encircled by yet another electric fence:

that of social hierarchy

 

how quickly the happy couple forgets

twinned into a single entity

how sure they were to die lonely

how they had to glug their way to smiles

they smugly embrace

oblivious, lace fingers

and sway together

through this

the longest night

 

Author's Note

Written whilst standing in the crowd for the Kerrang stage area at Birmingham Arts Fest. Concerts and large crowds depress me [I was there because my friend's younger brother wanted to go].
NB: this is maybe another thing I meant by honesty - I wrote it whilst happy-go-lucky pseudo-punk songs were deafening me and it was hard to struggle against the current and say what I actually wanted to, rather than lapsing into choruses and stuff, but I pretty much made it.
Determined honesty...

Reviews

[Dezaraye]

I seriously just want to copy this poem into my review and write, "AMEN" at the end of EVERY stanza.

I hate crowds ... people are this way. There are a handful (many writers here fall into this latter category) of people in the world who are genuine, caring, and supportive individuals. People ARE too loud. Why need them and yet we don't. I wish that people were their true selves. I think that it would make the world a much better, safer place. However, we listen to society and we bend and shape ourselves to fit in. Some, such as I, are always unable to conform and the world for them is gray.

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

i love punk music and this piece you have written which is sooo true!
it deep but not so deep those like myself cannot interpret the poem..
it has such truth .. i like the verse Bubo quoted below also .. i like it all.
chloe

[Emily B]

I came back and read again and left this ridiculously long reaction, not even knowing what the words were just that they flowed from my fingertips. I was too afraid even to go back and read the words, maybe they were too near a reflection. But then I pressed the submit review button and my computer hiccupped and lost it all. I give up :)

maybe I'll try again tomorrow . . .

[Bubo]

I always feel a sense of you through your words,maybe because your words are almost what I think........this is no exception, I am disappointed daily by humans, the world,society, the rat race and wonder what the hell happened to life that was some how given by God.
It appears thrills need to be more intense.Pain needs to be more hurtful, and life is a long cycle of struggling to remain a human intact, orginal, beautiful in the soul..........

what was once beautiful

has become ugly

by being too pretty

and its death vibrates beneath our feet



it isn't hard to write an anthem

but reality is less than catchy

and doesn't sell magazines



�except The Big Issue


I always feel you are hundreds of years old with your wisdom my friend.

[Emily B]

Honesty is something :)

I think I want to come back to this later when I can think of it. The people in my house keep talking to me, not used to that this early in the morning.