Falling off the floor.

 My toes are cold 

Even on the in side of the walls

I'm separated, 

Separate from the rest of the world

The one going on out there

Twenty foot long and 

Ten foot wide 

Is the space I'm in

And I wonder if it's manic

The place I'm in

Furious at everything

The fact that words have abandoned me

The gift had a limit 

And now all I'm left with are the dregs

The pitiful, non-dimensional

Self-obsessed sentiments 

Pouring out on the page like

The spilt milk I'm crying over

As if a gift for poetry mattered.

 

Loneliness is a curse

When promiscuity's a sin

When I am always wrong

So it seems.

 

Gutting and slicing the mind

Never finding what I'm looking for

I still haven't found what I'm looking for

 

Resenting the piano keys

A little inspiration please

I wish 

I could remember me.

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

" And I Still haven't found what I'm looking for..." sounds like a good line for a U2 song. lol One never has to wonder when one is manic, I am bi-polar extreme. I can go from Mr. Funland to suicide city in 0.5 seconds on a bad day but I have bursts of energy and natural highs from endorphin overload that produce vast amounts of work in short periods of time. My disease keeps my muse close at hand. But the price to be paid is a volatile temper and a short fuse which makes company hard to keep. I prefer solitude, nature and the company of my daughter who is an expert on my condition, she knows my triggers and how to diffuse my moods with logical argument like, " Dad, you are being irrational and can't focus. You are having an attack, please just relax and it will be o.k." Everbody else just walks away saying, "jeez, what an a*****e." lol I like this very interesting piece you have written.

[The realest]

Theres a word for it "soul searchers" restless nights like being caught in the matrix or something lol but honestly Its a poets anthem the feeling of being aware actually aware of your surroundings while the rest of the world drags on. Outlet poetry music all kinds of other things but face it once a soul searcher always a soul searcher. Ok enough of the preaching. Really good write and even better read your tempo mood flow everything was on point its 4:00 am in my beautiful CA and this had enough content to keep interested. so ill be following up on some of your other works if i do not pass out on this keyboard!

[Emily B]

Those last four lines resonated so loudly within me. Good words.

[J]

There's a tenderness and honesty here which I find resonates strongly with me; I'm always searching for this connection in some way with people, and with art, it's often a fickle perspective I hardly find.

Listening to the first song on your profile (Kate Nash) meshes in perfectly with this, with that mood you set and capture.

Sad. And delicate. And searching for...

[Adam Greenfield]

I can't tell you how many times I have had to "write through it." I can't find the words and when I do, I get the sense they were were hiding for a reason and didn't want to be found. But you have to show them that you mean business. Even words appreciate the effort.

Kiri, you are one of my few favorite people on this planet. I love your mind and how you have a fantastic way of painting a picture with words. And now I love your mind even more. Honestly, this piece felt like you were struggling with how to say what's in your head. But what's so freakin' great is that you pushed through and still pulled it off. The picture was clear enough to understand and even give me a little in-depth glimpse of your struggle. I could not only see it but I could feel it.

You so kick a*s and don't even know it. Chin up, K. I know things are messy for you right now but I completely believe you're going to be just fine. In fact, you'll probably end up better than most others.

[Jaffa Forbes]

As a poet, I really get the feeling of what your writing here, but the reason why I get that feeling is because it is a beautifully written piece. I love the title. Love it.
"And now all I'm left with are the dregs

The pitiful, non-dimensional

Self-obsessed sentiments "
Brilliant few lines.
good stuff!
Jaffa

[The Poor Man's Poet]

Loneliness is a curse and for some a blessisng in reverse.
When your looking for someone or something to break down
the writers block. But I think you did that writing this piece.
Its well done and even eloquent, this is a good write.
And I like it.