I’ve got one hand flexed
Around the stem of a fertile pen
The other unscrewing
My cardiac valve
If I expose my blood
To the elements
Will I rust?
Tetanus immobilizing
My swaying limbs
*
Resolute or intransigent?
Will I flinch when reaping
Stark white monosyllables
From a verminous subconscious
Or will I burgeon as the Taoist
Spirit ripened through exposure?
*
My falling voice
Creates no ripples
Without witness
Do these despairing stanzas
Animate the way
They were intended?
*
Only foolish men
Need the comfort
Of vanity
Genius is complete
On creation
*
Here I stand
In pieces
A foolish man
Whispering to a crowd
Narcissism inverted
But equally self-obsessed
*
Of my flesh
These poems wear
The same cloak of invisibility
That I have worn,
Heedless of season
An impious hibernation
Silencing dissent
Fearful eyes adjust the margins
That I may continue unabated
To rest
Mediocrity, aborting
Novelty
*
My treasonous heart
Goads my pen
Tap, tap, tap
An illithid stripping
Reveries
From an onerous womb (mind)
An illithid stalking
Psionic walls
Emotional constructs
That lust not for revelation
But preservation
*
Confession, imminent
Vital to the integrity
Of my scaffolding
I must allay these burdens
Or abandon altogether
The wind
*
There is very little left
Of my super ego
I am becoming ID
Impulse over procedure
Viscera over vision
Semaphore over soliloquy
Mascara black, my words
Run on inquisition
Any closer and will both
Go mad
=
This poem is about my writing process I often start out very reserved, locked up, rigid, disconnected from my feelings, insecure I worry what others think, what I think about myself which isn’t good (this isn’t always the case but I am writing daily now and inspiration varies), I edit out things that are too personal. I end up with a few very tense lines and then I get to business hacking down all those barriers, barriers that my extreme shyness reconstructs daily. I eventually get to the vulnerable, juicy center and that is what I try to give you guys. By the time I get to the core I rarely care what anyone thinks because at that point it is all about the writing. Writing is cathartic for me because I tend to be very very inhibited normally and I feel like myself when I write. The reason it sounds like multiple poems simultaneously is because that is actually how I write, several poems in the same breath all running together sometimes of a similar theme sometimes of very contrary themes. I will invariably use all the poem but maybe not at the same time if it doesn’t fit together sensibly. This time I left it because I wanted to show you the untamed version lol
Illithid if you haven’t heard of one.
mindlovemisery 