i know what it's like
to have not enough time
to do not enough things
and to be not enough
before there is
a freckle on my womb
my womanhood will
rot and decay
and everyone will say
"it was premature
she had to read
nietzsche in the
original german
poor girl
poor girl
poor girl"
how apropos that
time and compulsion would rape me
in the back of a library
angrily groping my breasts,
my skin, my hair, my youth
exposing their pale words to me
it is a violent, violent thing
and i am anxious
waiting for the day
when i feel too tired
too old, too grey
my wits declined
cataracts
plato would never
come to my
deathbed
i wonder, should i
just have children instead?
i only pray for some
sense of fulfillment so
i may not reflect and find
my life turned to salt
Author notes
It's a poem. I promise.
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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this is a great poem.
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this has a great flow and sorrowful anguish in its words
it is very interesting to read and displays a large wound that seems
to have scarred deeply
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Gee Cibby, this is powerful and raw you know.
Would you prefer I comment on the quality of the work, or the meaning of the content?
I would replace the quotation marks in the second set, with a single precursor dash "- ".
And you are very honest I think... and gee, feeling like that would be a bit of a worry, I should think?
But do you really wanna know what the point is? The trick is to get old enough to be a properly good poet, and get happier (as you do, as you get older, I promise).
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it is a violent, violent thing
and i am anxious
waiting for the day
yes!!
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There's so much meaning hidden beneath the words of this piece...
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i like it
can you write funny ones? -
I thought it was very deep.
There's so much more that seeps out between the lines.
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Hi, yes your writing has promise. It has good rhythm
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I like your poem, but in some sense I think worry about aging is a conceit of youth. The experience and wisdom of age is as intriguing as the soft skin of youth. You will be vibrant and horny much past what college-aged youth see as youth.
And Nietzsche is so much more interesting than frustrated cocky twenty year old men. That kind of experience is more like wild kinky sex than actual rape, I'd say. -
It's a good poem. I promise.
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