Tuesday, February 23, 2016

“like a rock, like a planet, like a fucking atom bomb”

unaffected, attempted and failed,
remote, self-contained, “a naked eye”
quoth an interesting sentiment,
I detested and lived.
swirling such a stagnant morass and maelstrom,
unintuiting, twisting counter clockwise,
towards receding rock bottom,
I watched the world without effect.
numbed or synthetically, desperately grinning||
I pretended toward disaffection or honest joy,
and found neither, nor any succor.

Authenticity high above happiness.
Could I survive with less of either?
Simplicity may content me, but
can magnanimity degauss duplicity?

(Does my poetry pale towards an exposition
of erudition and archaic displays of diction?)

I fear apace each smiling face,
at least now I may stare my malady en eyen!
For sooth? By my troth? Mayhaps?




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I feel like perhaps today's poem was a touch self indulgent so here is an example of a better poem.


Obviously I don't pretend to hold copyright to "Generator" by Bad Religion


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So I've added a tip jar to the blog, in the form a Patreon Campaign. 

If you've gotten any worth out of these poems and stories and experimental fiction and what-have-you, please consider donating. Any amount would be greatly appreciated and help to ensure I am able to keep doing this (this is one of my only sources of income now).


Thanks,
Edward

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