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Inside Story (W/ Laura Doom)
by Anita MacI feel things intensely
and revel in my own silence.
You will never know.
And I will never know
if that is your wish,
to be kept in the dark.
We should end up
just another cheap Jane Austen rip-off
of missed subtleties,
of stifled passions,
of suffocating one-dimensionality.
Worse still, our friends
will tar us with the same brush
that swept America red, and paint
the MyFace airwaves blue, when we choke
on the plume of our sensibilities.
I would propose we walk away now;
dodge the whole long line of could-be's,
but that would be just as perfect
as any other almost.
No, let's make this mess,
take the selfishness of imperfection
and bend it to its knees;
cry intensity until silence
mimes itself to sleep.
06/17/2010 Author's Note: Cheers to Ms. Doom, who is an abundance of patience and cleverness... among other things. ;o)
Posted on 06/17/2010
Copyright © 2024 Anita Mac
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Nanette Bellman on 06/18/10 at 09:34 PM You 2 compliment each other well. I enjoyed every word. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 06/18/10 at 11:49 PM Cheers, or maybe sighs of relief, for not mentioning those 'other things' :> |
| Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 06/19/10 at 05:05 PM those other things do include awesome, much like this piece. thanks for sharing kids. |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 06/24/10 at 05:07 AM "when we choke
on the plume of our sensibilities." What a gorgeously sculpted statement. This is wonderful. I had to come check out some more of your collaborations. Glad I did. |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 06/25/10 at 02:27 AM This is fantastic...a nouveau Regency collaboration of wit and whimsy and sharpshooter insight!! |
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