I’m not one for writing hate-mail,
But I’m going to go postal
If one more person asks me
What I’m doing with my life.
I have aces and eights emblazed on my chest.
I have never worn a vest,
But if I did,
That’s where I would keep my cards.
Go ahead and tell me again
How smart I am,
How I can do anything.
That’s precisely the problem.
The reason I’ve spent two semesters at community college,
And changed my major four fucking times.
Ask me again,
Don’t you like math?
I’ll tell you again,
Yeah, I do, sometimes.
Know what else I like sometimes?
English, science, art, music, silence, business, pleasure, pain, the rain, the sun, the moon, the earth, helping people, hurting people, Buddhism, BDSM, feminism, comic books, poetry, punk rock, rock climbing, roller coasters, rocket science, astronomy, amateur phlebotomy, philosophy, psychology, psychopathy, serenity, cigarettes, chaos theory, coffee, canis vulpis, and carnivorous plants.
I am complicated,
Even my eyes can’t commit to a color.
They are blue green or grey,
Depending on my coat.
I am chameleon on mescaline,
A kaleidoscope of crazy,
I was born in the year of Schroedinger’s cat.
I am quantum uncertain.
You can count on me for two things,
Obsession and compulsion.
For the rest, no promises.
In my chest, lodestone spins.
This compass rose on my breastbone
Just won’t show me north.
No, I don’t know where I’m going,
And I won’t stop for directions.
You can keep your Polaris.
And I’ll follow my dog star.
Another semi-poetic rant. These are getting to be a nasty habit. Those silly slam poets are rubbing off on me, I think. I bet a few people on here can relate to the sentiment, but this is really mostly for me. It's okay if it doesn't morph into masterpiece, but I'd still appreciate some suggestions.
The beginning and end are awkward, I know. Help me address that, please?
Is it too blunt and explanatory, or does the imagery and symbolism do enough to counterpoint and bring it back to show, don't tell?
What do you want to see more of, less of?
What else you got for me?
I don't like cigarettes, but I did like the "bluntness" of your poem. I myself think that that's usually the best way to go with things like this. I liked the "going postal" comment a lot, though I'm not sure why. Ah, well. Great job anyway
I don't either, except for sometimes -P Thank you, thank you, as always.
My mom smokes and she has some lung problems so I'm kind of away from them. But you're welcome, as always
You're not missing out on much. Learning from other people's errors is supposed to be one of the things that separates us from other apes. Sometimes I question that. I'm impressed.
Why are you impressed?
i don't know as much as i'd like to about poetry, but i think that bluntness can be beautiful
and i don't know you, but this is a badass "semi-poetic rant," and i feel like we would get along
I don't know as much as I'd like to, either, but I find if you have the urge to learn, you can pick up all necessary information along the way. Bluntness, maybe, but I'm not so sure about clumsiness. Thank you, and I sure hope so.
i am no poetic person so i have no idea about the imagery and symbolism, but i can tell you that i love this and i think it has a harsh beauty that really appeals to me and you are a brilliant writer c:
One thing I've learned, the only people that don't love poetry are people who've never found good poetry. Unfortunately, there's a lot of them. I'm glad you enjoyed it, in spite of, or because of its harshness. Thank you for the praise and the Watch.