Life suggests
A certain kind
of philosophy.
A school of thought,
An idealised way of life,
A bible for condemnation.
Life dictates
A certain bore
Of a routine.
Man to be a God,
Sisyphus rolling boulders
Up a hill, Down a hill,
For every day to come,
For every Time to come
Till enveloped in Death's embrace.
Life celebrates
A certain extravagance
of a social dance.
Shy glances
at the other,
Emotions
With so much hope
To be understood, felt,
But blind to the other.
Life
...
You were my life.
Being with you were my
Small windows of rapture
Captured into a single Slice
Of a Dice, of a moment,
I gamble with my chances,
I throw the stakes in,
Another session of depression,
Another thought to breed suicidal aggression
...
Your skin makes mine tingle,
Your smile when we are alone
Have me willingly
Throw the dice into the roulette,
Its dancing taps the beat of my heart.
Your smell (I bet you didn't know you had one)
Makes me wish I was in your room again,
Just us, being us,
Alone, talking about us alone,
Talking about being Alone,
Talking about
...
(me loving you)
...
I'm sorry, there was a deviation of
...
What was I trying to say
...
What was the topic again?
...
Yes
...
about Life
...
I...
I'm afraid,
I'm afraid You are only a metaphor,
Invented for this subject at hand,
My hand a wreck having you like
sand blown away by the wind,
Golden dust...
Disappearing
.
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I don't often have these messages below poems, but this is a poem written for @contests_99 , for well, a poetry contest. Some of my poems are written for contests, but I don't indicate as such, in a "Writer's message" kind of manner as I feel like it highlights the existence of the poet, which contradicts the theme of this poetry collection, "No One Gives a Damn". In other words, contradicts the (supposedly) "flow of consciousness" method utilised.
YOU ARE READING
No one Gives a Damn
PoetryPoems I have written about feelings and things no one probably gives a damn about. I'm on Facebook as The Writer. (Nevermind, no one gives a damn anyway)
