chicalee84
08-17-2005, 06:24 PM
Disclaimer: (pre-disclaimer: yes i realize the faux pax and the cliche i am committing by providing a disclaimer, but this just makes it ironic right?) Another "woman's wrath" poem, which is in itself a cliche, but that's kind of the point-- the whole poem knows it's cliche, it just does it better;)
almost (doesn't count)
i almost cried over you today--
unbelieveable--
finally angry for it
You, best friend so genuine
who'd never be 'that guy'
to me
never ever, you
can find my hands, my waist
those hook-and-eye clasps
even my eyes later
but not your voice now
not even its echo in a phone
You, suddenly fine with so much hollow more
and now you let me become 'that girl'
to you
or one of them
at least it feels that way
a cliche
and so are you, only now
you've got cliche immunity
mainstream media morality
just like every other original individual
with no regrets
and a postmodern conscience
and here you are again in my poem
damn you
sweet insidious bastard
i bet you think this poem is about you
don't you don't you
i've always liked that song
don't you?
my best poems are about you
You like that i need you,
a stroke on the shaft of your ego
you take what i willingly give
and keep it, out of my reach
I resent you for it
and i try i try
but i can't
i can't
i can't
--crack--
can't backtrack
the replay's on an unforgiving loop
but maybe i should just be grateful, right?
for new poems that scrawl you out
in purple ink
Cliche expanded, overdeveloped?
Answer me!
I'm the powerfully overwrought, indecisive, independent
sexually frustrated, introspective, insecure, feminist
of every novel you never made it all the way through
the
woman at the window
girl staring [screaming] at the mirror
cursing the day you taught me
to give my want your name
in spite of my judging you unworthy
you, who i never wanted to want
you with your paining touch
and interested kindness
Speak up!
I'm a woman who thinks too much
and you're too much on my mind
your silence feeds my rancor
distorts, amplifies
confuses love with the provocateurs
in your fingertips
but never long enough to believe it, so
Is it you or the loss of my innocence
i've been missin so much?
'cause i could write this whole story
in trite country-song lyrics
with Spanish subtitles
but you'd still miss the resolution
always disappearing after the climax
to leave me under caution falling action signs--
the way you read so painstakingly,
i'm already rewriting the endings
you'll never see
almost (doesn't count)
i almost cried over you today--
unbelieveable--
finally angry for it
You, best friend so genuine
who'd never be 'that guy'
to me
never ever, you
can find my hands, my waist
those hook-and-eye clasps
even my eyes later
but not your voice now
not even its echo in a phone
You, suddenly fine with so much hollow more
and now you let me become 'that girl'
to you
or one of them
at least it feels that way
a cliche
and so are you, only now
you've got cliche immunity
mainstream media morality
just like every other original individual
with no regrets
and a postmodern conscience
and here you are again in my poem
damn you
sweet insidious bastard
i bet you think this poem is about you
don't you don't you
i've always liked that song
don't you?
my best poems are about you
You like that i need you,
a stroke on the shaft of your ego
you take what i willingly give
and keep it, out of my reach
I resent you for it
and i try i try
but i can't
i can't
i can't
--crack--
can't backtrack
the replay's on an unforgiving loop
but maybe i should just be grateful, right?
for new poems that scrawl you out
in purple ink
Cliche expanded, overdeveloped?
Answer me!
I'm the powerfully overwrought, indecisive, independent
sexually frustrated, introspective, insecure, feminist
of every novel you never made it all the way through
the
woman at the window
girl staring [screaming] at the mirror
cursing the day you taught me
to give my want your name
in spite of my judging you unworthy
you, who i never wanted to want
you with your paining touch
and interested kindness
Speak up!
I'm a woman who thinks too much
and you're too much on my mind
your silence feeds my rancor
distorts, amplifies
confuses love with the provocateurs
in your fingertips
but never long enough to believe it, so
Is it you or the loss of my innocence
i've been missin so much?
'cause i could write this whole story
in trite country-song lyrics
with Spanish subtitles
but you'd still miss the resolution
always disappearing after the climax
to leave me under caution falling action signs--
the way you read so painstakingly,
i'm already rewriting the endings
you'll never see