|
Chronicles of a Poet (off her meds)
by Kristi PaikWhat are you reading?
What are you staring at?
Words followed by more words
followed by more words
followed by more words
followed by HEY! Guess wha?
More words.
Getting pissed off?
Good!!!
followed by more words
followed by...
Well i hope by now you get the picture.
What are you waiting for?
Me to introduce your inner demon child?
Too bad i'm no fucking messenger!!!!!!
if you want to make up with god, you better
tell Her your sorry yourself.
You want me...bad.
every little detail of my soiled, sad childhood to drip
onto the page; Daddy beat me. Mommy never loved me.
Is that what you wanted HUH?
A verse or two to mimic a time or horror or violent loving side to the rubix cube that is me? Why do you want the violence? Isn't there enough on Tv for you? Those shows that brainwash the masses that is you?!?
i don't have the time
or the patience
or the energy
or the lyrical genius
or anything that the great minds
or whenever had or have so
don't waste your time or mine.
no need for the angry mob
or torches to chase me away from borders.
On a totem pole of writers i
rank somewhere between a 2 yr old and a porkchop
GET OFF MY BACK!
i can promise you for the most part no
existential magic bean that
leads to a portal that
leads to a portal that
leads to a portal that...nevermind.
i don't feel like doing that again.
i resign to my simplicity.
but you will never know it.
i know...i know what youre thinking, it can't be that simple.
Well, It is.
And know this; before you start to judge me, know
that me and this pen and paper
have the power to tell you what to see,
and how to feel and even...
how my words should taste on your lips.
it's like watching and waiting
for stagnant water to boil itself.
Fuck it. Whatever my writing sux.
09/19/2005 Posted on 09/20/2005
Copyright © 2025 Kristi Paik
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 09/20/05 at 07:41 PM I don't recall having a poem chew me out quite like this before. Interesting concept. "somewhere between a 2 yr old and a porkchop" is a pretty good line. |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 09/22/05 at 02:47 PM Well, I see a thought process addressed to a CROWD hoping you will come across an INDIVIDUAL, who would recognize you.And yes, whats simple ( obviously the so called paradoxical reality to an individual) isn't that simple to a crowd. But who cares? Not an Individual if one is genuinely simple. |
| Posted by Rula Shin on 09/30/05 at 09:39 PM A very interesting piece, as others say SOC, which in a way seems like a purging to me of nagging thoughts repeating themselves over and over again like a recording. Well words, as you say, are just words and meaningless. It is the action which matters, it is the distinction of one's self as an individual from the mob which matters, even if the mob ends up crucifying you, though one should try to evolve while keeping the crowd within and without in good humor to keep them at bay, giving the individual the chance she needs to grow, and thus, to return to the basics, to return completely to consciousness. As Ashok said, what looks simple to the individual does not appear simple to the crowd. What is simple to the intending self, seems paradoxical or even nonsensical to the divided self. What is simple in the eyes of nature, is complicated in the eyes of a subjective observer unreconciled and unmerged with what IS, always adding to the complexities which exist and continue to grow only in the mind. |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 04/25/06 at 06:10 PM Personally, I like SOC writing; both verse and prose. You did a good job- spoke your mind.A very intriguing piece! well wriiten- raw and gutsy! |
|
