5 poems of the day
By sarah 14 Feb 2002
Dear Diary…
<p>I’ve been in a funk. A blue funk, not a mirror ball and retro70s bighair funk. And I’ve been pulling at bits and pieces of my mind trying to write my way out of it. I failed. Which worked. Nothing like failure to show you that you look like a dork. Nothing like loooking like a dork to make you realize people laugh at you. Nothing like laughter to get you caught up in it. THen you’re laughing at yourself, and you wonder how you got there, but you’re tired from laughing. So you make tea. Of course the cup of tea would perhaps have done the same thing in the beginning, but it is all about process. And the result of the process is five poems, started them last night, just finished them up now. Not that good, but satisfying to write. And since no one but Anders knows how to delete them, ehre they are… I’m now off to ponder what Lani’s upto… squeekily.</p>
<p><i>L</i><i>ife Writing</i></p>
<p>Writing for your very life </p>
<p>in a world beyond the cold.</p>
<p>A truly terrible aesthetic </p>
<p>of forced and unforseen choice.</p>
<p>Written in unfamiliar dreams and </p>
<p>yet remembered nightmares;</p>
<p>Poetic desires carved into forms </p>
<p>of administration and fear.</p>
<p><hr></p>
<p><i>L</i><i>ilac Shadow</i><i>s</i></p>
<p>Lilac shadows opening my petal of dripping </p>
<p>warmth and comfort that calls us both</p>
<p>to harvest moist uncertainty.</p>
<p>Suicide’s curving throne of our bodies</p>
<p>entwined and writhing without borders.</p>
<p>Could we kill ourselves to ensure </p>
<p>these lilac shadows never end.</p>
<p><hr></p>
<p><i>Audio Miasma </i></p>
<p>Audio Miasma throbs at my gut with an unseen viral beat </p>
<p>of broken tonal drones. I fall into the haze </p>
<p>of an infected inductive rhythm, lost in </p>
<p>machinations of someone else’s mind.</p>
<p>The night fractures into an </p>
<p>endless moan that sings </p>
<p>our bodies through the </p>
<p>cafe mystique, out </p>
<p>into the tango </p>
<p>night, soon </p>
<p>ending on </p>
<p>a taxi </p>
<p>good</p>
<p>nig</p>
<p>ht</p>
<p>.</p>
<p><hr></p>
<p><i>F</i><i>enland Dwelle</i><i>r</i></p>
<p>Shunned and on the edge </p>
<p>in the marshes of the Carmague</p>
<p>lost live in the sewers of the Rhone.</p>
<p>Tavellers hide from our stories </p>
<p>told to keep them full of fear.</p>
<p>They fear for their lives and souls, </p>
<p>and leave us well alone.</p>
<p>Fear and loathing in the swamp, </p>
<p>death and damned decay.</p>
<p>With black sarah, kali’s gypsie goddess,</p>
<p>we are rich beyond belief, lost and hidden</p>
<p>in the fear of our fenland tidal home.</p>
<p><hr></p>
<p><i>B</i><i>icuspid</i></p>
<p>Teeth rip, blood gnashing</p>
<p>hell, into the maelstrom</p>
<p>of flesh that is</p>
<p>your heart.</p>
<p>Screams infect your mind, your</p>
<p>blood coagulating with </p>
<p>my viral love.</p>