Shhhhh

Old poem, but just recorded me reading, so hopefully won't be spam.

I'll probably wake up sobbing again tomorrow
Don't mind my drunken confessions
I have the tolerance of a gnat
But the emotional girth of an elephant
Weighing my light body down
That's my tragedy I suppose
If I were to be dramatic
Though drama emits catharsis
Drama is meaning and beauty - creation
In short: not me
In other words
I'm love sick
Sick for it
Sick with it
Sick in its absence
Just straight fuckn sick
Don't mind my vulgarity
It is what one uses
When convention fails
Expletives are the outcasts in language
They wear leather and smoke all night
While the rest of the dictionary
Sleep, pay taxes, and attend PTA meetings
Profane words are death row inmates
Offering their final translucent confessions
Stripped of pomp or rhetoric
S**t. Mierde. Hijo de la puta madre.
There I go again
It's late and I'm on my third drink
And am becoming vaguely beautiful
In spite of the tarantula
Crawling inside me, through me
Its prickly legs sprawling
Its ugliness spreading
Until I feel like clawing
Clawing at my breast
To get it out
Get it out!
Anyhow, I'll let you sleep
Shhhhh....shhhhh....
it's fine, really
Come morning I will sob on my stoli-scented pillow
While others yawn and smack their alarm clocks...

Author's Note

I stole the title from one of I.R. poems, but it's apt, for various reasons.






Also, the song I have been told is mistakingly attributed to Perfect Circle but is actually Ashe.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

I don't know if this one was written under the influence, but it has that sound, and I don't mean that as a criticism. The spirits can cause us to ramble, and I get something of that here. Really good imagery, especially that concerning profanity. Do hope the morning after this one wasn't too painful. Good work.

[Alessander]

ah, good the spirits come across! That was what I was going for.
Vodka mornings are always the worst, which is why I just stick to whiskey now lol
Thx for reading.

[Alicante lullaby]

just wondering...i mean i know moods swinging yet do they swing or we make them swing...i liked tarantula spice...its thick broth....very likeable...

[Tanya]

In spite of the tarantula
Crawling inside me, through me
Its prickly legs sprawling
Its ugliness spreading
Until I feel like clawing
Clawing at my breast
To get it out
Get it out
Anyhow, I'll let you sleep
Shhhhh....shhhhh....

The imagery here is pretty cool. Solitude is pretty nasty, most ignore it, some take it out on a drink. Great write.

[Aimee Mahathy]

This is amazing! At first I honestly didn't think I would like it, given my recent obsession with perfect meter. :3
But the metaphor of the tarantula was so powerful! I could almost feel those furry legs and disgusting eyes within my own self!
I'll have to read it while listening to the song when I get the laptop back~ So I can use headphones. I don't want to disturb anyone here. >.>

This really was amazing though.
I loved the images of vulgarities being death row inmates. Brilliant!

[Sidewalk]

"Expletives are the outcasts in language They wear leather and smoke all night
While the rest of the dictionary Sleep, pay taxes, and attend PTA meetings"

This is probably my favorite part. dig the personification. Can't upload the music right now, bad connection and all. But I'm not really sure if I'd want to. The prose stands well enough alone and I think music would take away from it. If you're experimenting with media, I think this'd look cool scrawled across you stoli-scented pillow in black marker. I could also see this as a monologue on the stage. either way...gold stars all around

[deeps]

Such a powerful write here.
I like it full of self expressions.
Brillant writre. Enjoy to read.

[Ruth]

A Perfect Circle - love them! :) Cool band:)

The poem is great, many elements within, a flow of contradiction, wow! Cool:) xx

[Laura Nikkinen]

Don't I know the roller coaster mind, feeling way too much and then feeling nothing at all an hour later. Believing life's just chaos and then thinking it all has meaning. Leaning towards the happy end now though. Words that vulgar... profane, only if the contents they're used in are somehow threatening or offensive to the other part reading/hearing them... Don't know what I wanna say with that but... I'm just rambling now. Anyway. Nice monologue, and it feels like a dialogue too... Who are you talking to? Your conventional side, or the rest of the world with the conventional people living in it? Which is... all of us pretty much. In my opinion, for what it's worth. The song... (listening to it now). Ok, here's how I take these two collaborating with each other (your poem and the song): In your poem you're pretty analytical of your own thoughts and emotions, explaining your own self-loath or sickness, the never ending "why"... and it's kind of contradictory too, your emotions are explosive in their nature, but then the analyzer in you strokes those emotions into hiding... so you can go on another day, I'm guessing, like it's ok... it's gonna be ok... (I do it all the time, don't know if I'm completely butchering your piece here with my opinion, maybe I'm really off, whatever that is). And the song... I can't listen to the song as someone longing for a girl since the context here gives it a whole new meaning to me... The song is serenading the poem (in my little world), you're serenading yourself, sanity convincing insanity, the hopeful optimist talking to the hopeless cynic, or whatever noun you wanna use there... cynic, b*****d, emotionless/gutless person. Reading the poem, and then listening to the song along with it... Its like I'm witnessing someone go down in a spiral... and then the whole process gets rewound the next day. It's not the easiest piece to digest, but it's good to consume and enjoy something else for a change besides the same old fast food, right? Maybe I'll try to write something uneasy too... Maybe.

[Adora.xo]

First off... Downloading that song... Second that as brilliant! I loved the spider part... it made my insides crawl. Keep it up sweety!

~Adora

[Mark]

Brilliant. I always felt that way about vulgar words but never knew how to say it. They may be the outcasts but they are still there and they still serve a purpose. F*****g PTA meetings.

[Katie Louise Hughes]

Good work:)