Susan Suburbia

oh the angst. oh the hate.

today was wrapped up in the clumsiness of your memories
and i wanted to
stumble/fall/forget
but apparantely you've forgotten how bitter a beast can become
and it has taken me all day to rip your
"priced to own" smile from out the unsliced corners of my mind
i wanted to carve those lips blissful with blood-red whispers
but now my eyes are whiplashing from unswept tears and i
curse you with murderous metaphors and prostituted sonnets that somehow seem to suit you... perfectly.
i hate you
i hate that if you want to
you can sing in love's voice;
a softer soprano sometimes echoed in my musings on the piano and
goddamn you for becoming a mockery of my desire
eight-hour rugburns blister my tongue to slient confessions of saliva unspent in unknowing you

and you have never known me
only of my obsession
only of the chains that your flirtatious fires forged in the founding moments of this false friendship
only in a father who found you beautiful and took you as a
man takes a goddess to bed
and there have been many phallic altars raised to your consumption
to your consumerism as you've sold yourself
to escape the pain
again
and
again
and
but you were never for sale for me!
you simply inspired me to settle for mediocrity
and was it asking too much of you to let me use you to distraction? just become a dirty boy in your long line of filthy father-figure replicas?
a soldier of false love armed to the teeth with accusatory artillery
cause the luke-warm distillery of your eyes was not the f*****g prise i was after
the false laughter of suburbia not the prelude i required
and i am tired
i am tired of being a victim of the victimised
of going to bed with unrealized hopes
and waking to the rutting sounds of irony and denial

and i'm tired of driving 30 miles for conversation and bad kareoke
NO MORE!
no longer will i shovel a heart-shaped sepulcher into the golf-course of your body
slicing away at the right phrase to get a par-tial peek into your feminine mystique
see my mistake lay in trusting myself to completely honest in your presence
now i see.....how i let my boyish lust get lost in your schoolgirl smiles; let so much of my soul settle into those shallow seductions
and i let you become that comfortable lie
that i could curl into virgin arms like a phantom.
and now i find it fantastic that it has taken me 3 years to say
f**k off.
forgetting you is going to be a pleasure.

Reviews

[Ruth]

This would be perfect for spoken word, a lot to devour and dissect! Powerful, bittersweet experiences, gathered thoughts of how life really is at that moment. This would be excellent to speak! Broken, shattered parts of music put to it :) Awesome
xx

[poddar kushal]

Forgetting is a hard toil. Seldom Success comes. You have written real feelings, realistically.

[Ninelilies]

You caught her falseness, but there are a few typos. "I let you become that comfortable lie"...so true.

[Gandré]

How is it possible I didn't see this..."curse you with murderous metaphors and prostituted sonnets that somehow seem to suit you... perfectly." -------what a way to say. You are amazing. I totally adore your way with words also "goddamn you for becoming a mockery of my desire
eight-hour rugburns blister my tongue to slient confessions of saliva unspent in unknowing you" so many original metaphors. I love your way with the language. You are piercing and remaining, also when I stopped to read the poem, I have to ponder your meaning. "i am tired of being a victim of the victimised
of going to bed with unrealized hopes
and waking to the rutting sounds of irony and denial" ---------saying this is more than a slap in face!
This powerful expression is proving your ability to do anything you ever want with the language and that's extraordinaire.

[Leah Simone]

HA! such venom - I think I felt it splatter on my face as I read it - as if you were leaning in for the verbal kill.
Tired of driving 30 miles for conversation and bad karaoke - now, that is real amidst some of the more creative - golf course analogies, but what I like best about this is the momemtum - it keeps speeding and speeding then throws us from the cliff - with a good riddance kick in the butt. I think you have spoken for many men who strive to be the prince charming for a fairy princess who eats hearts like a box of chocolates - just testing to see what flavor it is - then on to the next - not caring that no one else will
want to put their lips on it after that - her curiousity was satisfied and that is all that matters.

[Chelsea Hawkins]

Very bitter.
It's one of those love-hate emotional type dramas that people simply adore soaking up.
And you did a very splendid job of putting in brilliant imagery love at its worst.

The title is also very fantastic. I enjoyed this a lot. The anger is real, and you can feel it radiating like heat.
Very nicely done.

Thank you for the review. I hope to read more of yours in the future.

[Emily Elizabeth]

Love this- beautiful, powerful and bitter, and not over-wrought with over-sentimental drivel. Fantastic imagery, but I think it could be tightened in some parts, but you might want to keep the sentences loose to go with the flowing ebb of the poem.

The bluntness at the end was sharp, tense and angry, and it was a pleasure to read.

[Emily B]

You cut to the quick. But I imagine you have to be blunt in an instance like this.

[Stephen Ownby]

I really like this, the anger is real and anchored in imagery and specific details. Nice.