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loving you is like lighting a cigarette butt from the ashtray
by Vere Mantratriadit is the repetition that defines us
far more as what we hope not to be
than what we've done right on the
first time around yet the cry is
always practice makes perfect and so
our redundancies are heralded as some
making of a greater good though what
could be greater than finding some
speck of good in our own bodies is a
concept far beyond me and so I come
back to repeat once again and I wonder
if anyone really believes that it all
could be bad when we all know that
our hearts beat in repetition, our
lungs expand and contract monotonously,
our lids close and open by reflex yet
some chemical reaction of my brain cells
is told to me as being poor choices,
victimization of my childhood, a love of
pestilence and decay yet I cycle monthly
spilling my own blood in hopes that one
day it could produce something beyond
what I hold to be myself and I dress myself,
chew my meals as one side to the other,
whichever side hurts the least on that day
and I use the same greetings, carry out
the same set of chores, watch the same shows,
check the same accounts over and over again.
I expect the same result; decay and smoke
rising and sputtering out of my lungs
I am reduced to a black cloud in mind,
body, spirit and time. I still crave you,
longing for an ending I know was never
meant for me yet I feel a pull from
behind my navel and every cricket's chirrup
echoes your name as the wind whips your
stench back through my nostrils. I have
looked for you in bins and pits, but to
no avail because I look in the places
that I exist in, realizing later that you
have risen above leaving me here, cradling
my repetition again and again. 12/01/2006 Author's Note: blech.
Posted on 12/01/2006
Copyright © 2025 Vere Mantratriad
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Anne Boulender on 12/02/06 at 02:13 AM this is really quite something. its interesting you did not bother to make any line breaks because this makes some heavy and true points which are extremely dead on. it is the repition that defines us far more than what we hope not to be, and it is the repition that defines us far more that what we've done right the first time around. I have looked for you in bins and pits.... There is so much here that is sort of hidden without any line breaks, which is interesting. |
| Posted by Anne Boulender on 12/02/06 at 09:03 AM this is pretty exceptional, i've shown a few people and have read it about ten times now. i'm going to have real hard time not plagurizing this. |
| Posted by Christel Crews on 12/04/06 at 08:15 PM yes, we trap ourselves in the patterns of life, craving and hoping for a change, somewhere and somehow, looking for that "savior" but nothing will come of it until we break our repetition and step out.. this is the type of piece that captures the heart of all who read it because we've all been there.. and many dwell there |
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