Blighted,
A sickening
(w)retch I am.
A poet,
Listless
Loathsome
Yet blissful.
I will not pretend to know all about this art, or even talk of having come close to mastering it. But I know it's the way I say what I say that will make you swoon.
And I won't say much, but just enough to throw you into the throes of madness and heartache.
Ah, such is the power of poetry.
My poems talk about the mundane, over-felt, abused and bastardized emotions… and words. A certain element of exhaustion floats heavily over almost each of my poems… as the eye of the maddening maelstrom of emotions is a rare tryst… and is definitely tiring.
I have tried hard not to drown my poetry with clichés and the hope remains that I have been successful.
I may appear to be slightly… touched, if you do happen to read further into my poems, but I have drawn inspiration… from I, my fellow poets and their thoughts and lives.
So this is a portrayal of our collective insanity.
Within our ordinary lives.
Within us.
Conspiring.
Plotting.
Waiting.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
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