Hello, sorry it’s been so long since I updated this blog. I’ve been working on a few things, but they’re all in progress and not ready to be thrown to the e-dogs yet. So here is a poem I wrote a little while ago. It’s sort of melancholic, because that’s the frame of mind I tend to be in when I write, but I’m happy with it. Also, it doesn’t rhyme.
One last thing: I reference two songs in the poem—"Bastards of Young" by The Replacements from the album Tim and "America" by Simon and Garfunkel, from the album Bookends. I’ve included links to the songs if you haven’t heard them yet. (They are two very good songs.)
"Early morning poem 5/29/12"
They told us we’re the sons of no one,the bastards of young,
like that was supposed to make us feel better.
We let the rain build up on the windshield until everything is blurry and drippy
and it looks like we’re driving through a painting
We don’t dare turn on the wipers.
Being this close to death makes us feel alive.
Leaving home was never like “America”
by Simon and Garfunkel,
except for the last verse. The part about being lost.
“I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why.”
That part sort of rang true.
I’m letting the sweat collect on my forehead
until it drips into my eyes
and shorts my circuits
and turns me obsolete.