Look.
I want to write about that,
You know,
That thing I see all the time,
Or maybe just every once in a while,
Or maybe I’m just fucking with you
Because I don’t see anything.
No, that’s a lie
Because it’s right there,
The feeling I feel about it.
It’s too heavy for my vocabulary,
Too elusive for my metaphors,
Too unpredictable for my rhythm.
So I decided to stop trying to make
My words look like it,
Stop comparing it to what I know,
And I’m not even going to try trapping
It in a catchy beat, because it’s not very
Catchy because it’s hard to catch onto.
I can come out and say I’m trying to
Tell you that what I’m talking about
Stands for everything you’ve ever
Wanted to express, but couldn’t,
And everything someone else
Has tried to tell you, but couldn’t,
Because it’s hard to understand
People who're fucking with you
Because they don’t see anything,
Or rarely see something you see all the time,
Or see something all the time that you don’t get to,
Or wanted to write about something you didn’t care about.
But I wouldn’t look that deep.
Author notes
I might know what I'm talking about, but you probably don't. It's also highly probable that you know exactly what I'm talking about, and I really have no idea.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A Labyrinth
This poem is like a labyrinth of matters of the mind, darting in and out of corners and passageways and plowing ahead mindlessly, erratically, seeking the end with no real clue where it is. And yet...it knows -exactly- where it's going. *whistles* You always come up with such interesting, thought-provoking ideas for your poetry, and convey these ideas in ways that give them justice.
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I know exactly what you're talking about....i think
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