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ego_eschaton
Human

Registered: 04/12/05
Posts: 6
Last seen: 17 years, 11 months
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breathe the poem
#4055115 - 04/14/05 02:14 PM (17 years, 11 months ago) |
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This is a poem I wrote called "The inhalation of poetry":
If I could practice what I preach, would I need to preach it?
Today I write a poem with no lies or exaggerations
Today I write with my naked bones and a grin no flesh no skin no clothes to cover me I write with bones because they have nowhere to hide
Today I write an autobiography with no ghostwriter
Today I put myself onto a dead tree bleached and leafed without sunglasses to protect my eyes from the glare
Through my facade of security I will write with insecurity and then hold a literary staring contest with myself I will invite 10 of my closest friends and 10,000 people I have never met before and sit, staring at my poem wearing nothing but bones because bones can't blush
After that I will read my poem to the 10,010 people present and I want each and every one of them to tell me it's lousy and contrived and played out and stupid and I should really put some god damn clothes on or at least some skin for christ's sake
I want them all to say that so that afterwards I can read my poem to myself and love it just as much and look down at my bones and laugh because once I do that I can say:
Today I write a poem with my actions Today I breathe air instead of inhibitions Every movement every word every thought is a poem The affirmation of the poem is the affirmation of existence
-------------------- "Don't act; you have nothing to do"
-Jiddu Krishnamurti
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JacquesCousteau
Being.


Registered: 06/10/03
Posts: 7,825
Loc: Everywhere, Everytime.
Last seen: 10 months, 20 days
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If I could practice what I preach, would I need to preach it?
Today I write a poem with no lies or exaggerations
Today I write with my naked bones and a grin no flesh no skin no clothes to cover me I write with bones because they have nowhere to hide
Today I write an autobiography with no ghostwriter
Today I put myself onto a dead tree bleached and leafed without sunglasses to protect my eyes from the glare
Through my facade of security I will write with insecurity and then hold a literary staring contest with myself I will invite 10 of my closest friends and 10,000 people I have never met before and sit, staring at my poem wearing nothing but bones because bones can't blush
I like this part... beyond this point it gets a little rambly, and loose in form and rhyme. It's also uncomfortably long... my mind didn't "want" to read past about halfway. Anyway, I think that last stanza above makes a good closer... but that is just my opinion. 
edit: P.S. Welcome to the shroomery.
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