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Literature Text
Dot the connects.
Puzzle the pieces.
Riddle every solution
with the lapses of your logic.
Close the door.
Close it again.
It's still open, close it again.
It's closed, descend to the street.
It's still open, close it again.
You know it's closed, but
get back up there,
close it again.
Deep breath.
You probably left the oven on.
Didn't cook a thing last night,
but for some reason, you turned it on,
left it on. It's exactly the same
as when you didn't close the door.
(Is it closed at this moment?)
Turn it off, or the whole house burns.
It's not even gas, but everything burns.
And close the damn door!
It's too simple. How can something this basic
be so serpentine?
A sprawl of papers in the air catch fire, then
cascade on everything like napalm butterflies.
Your balcony is your new waterfall.
Everyone knows how firemen stop flames:
they look at them.
I will tell you what happens to unobserved trees in the forest:
they fall.
Close the door!
Turn off the oven!
Shut off the valve!
Shut off the electricity!
Shut
the fuck
UP!
Puzzle the pieces.
Riddle every solution
with the lapses of your logic.
Close the door.
Close it again.
It's still open, close it again.
It's closed, descend to the street.
It's still open, close it again.
You know it's closed, but
get back up there,
close it again.
Deep breath.
You probably left the oven on.
Didn't cook a thing last night,
but for some reason, you turned it on,
left it on. It's exactly the same
as when you didn't close the door.
(Is it closed at this moment?)
Turn it off, or the whole house burns.
It's not even gas, but everything burns.
And close the damn door!
It's too simple. How can something this basic
be so serpentine?
A sprawl of papers in the air catch fire, then
cascade on everything like napalm butterflies.
Your balcony is your new waterfall.
Everyone knows how firemen stop flames:
they look at them.
I will tell you what happens to unobserved trees in the forest:
they fall.
Close the door!
Turn off the oven!
Shut off the valve!
Shut off the electricity!
Shut
the fuck
UP!
Literature
Reddist
Before you, there were women
with full breasts,
breasts with perk tips and beneath them:
hips wide as my hand spread,
but never love.
Athenas before you,
my eyes only followed the apples;
and then, suddenly:
A wild brook unleashed
and I never knew I was a basin
meant to be filled.
A woman sewn
from the smile of Coyote,
from the same hands that bent time
and created life for a laugh-
Apples became
the sweetest fruit; be my reddist-
I will love you madder
than a hatter and brasher than a miner.
Wilder for a gypsy.
Literature
Remarks
i. I like the way you call me
and always hang up on the second ring
because you know I get the shakes and the shivers
and sometimes, but not always, my knees fall off
and I have to crouch down to find them.
ii. I keep thinking about you.
You
and your ten-thousand tans
and your lack-luster smile
gaping open with colloquialisms.
You and the way you say
"you're pretty and thin"
as if one more label will be the gunshot
and I'll finally escape that dream
in which I'm running, but my feet are melting
through the sidewalk and my arms are
casting impossible shadows.
iii. It reminds me of how inarticulate words are sometimes;
how t
Literature
Restless
I’ve been living in the same breathy dream
for too many days now; I’m bed-ridden and
stale and I reek of those moments that come
full throttle like a car crash on a winter night
this is evolution where weak hearts
are afraid of the shadows and where
everything changes,
an apologetic wind births no remorse;
he will move on—anchored ship
set sail, I am the sunken wreckage
that never learned how to swim.
he will move on, Darwin says
I never had a chance
I wish I were the textbook sadness,
symptom and solution and endurance
but I’ve spent too long sleeping on the
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How I feel from time to time.
Thoughts sparked and lessons learned by reading the incredible work of ,
this time by these two pieces:
throwing rocks.
Riding bikes [which was awarded a DD some weeks after I posted this]
Thoughts sparked and lessons learned by reading the incredible work of ,
this time by these two pieces:
throwing rocks.
Riding bikes [which was awarded a DD some weeks after I posted this]
© 2012 - 2024 neonxaos
Comments34
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Very clever - poetry really suits the OCD mindset, I feel, and this poem perfectly encapsulates the bitter anger and annoyance that OCD instills into the sufferer's life. That simple/serpentine line was excellent, and the entire poem had a lovely, natural flow to it. Well done, sir.