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Brutality of man by ~staxu:iconstaxu:



sin slamming fist into wall
laughing madly dying with a facemask,
dreading tomorrow will never come,
hoping for flight and wasting all hours
spinning useless wheels,
synapses are firing machine guns;
no one is home,
eating the meager by the mouthful
drowning on words, asphyxiation
comatose tomorrows, endless winter sorrows,
solace in a question
no answer  -- there is no one home,
slamming fist into wall
asphyxiation --
breaking everything of value
laughing madly trailing sighs and sorrows,
there is no end
there is
nothing
pounding sadness into concrete
with all the brutality of man
I am.
©2007-2009 ~staxu
:iconstaxu:

Author's Comments

I'm sure a combination of factors resulted in this piece, but .. I do not know them.

This was -maybe- a minute and a half of something like free association. If it came to mind as a fully formed phrase, I typed it.

Something interesting for you all to try, maybe. I'm sorry if you expected real poetry. I don't submit to scraps anymore; who knows what you people want from me.

Comments


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:iconfelix-forever:
I don't like the title, but that's normal. I sort of like it over all though. It's so easy.
:iconthetaoofchaos:
i like it - free form is, and makes the best, poetry.

--
The world is an eraser for these words


- Jack Kerouac


we must destroy that which contains us

Details

October 21, 2007
821 bytes

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