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no place to get up from by ~freakoutsyndrome:iconfreakoutsyndrome:



impressionist sculptured
the hands
expressioned the sands
made them feel
like certainty and cubism
reduced you to blocks
squashed the handle
no emphasis on eminence
interpretalive
fall in motion falling motion
leaves an ocean eating mold and
pasting facing wasting changeling
edit cut and copy creativism
palindromic soul
kept it in, makes you pee
realized what It meant
see the angle is, slim
anyone can wince you
convince you, tried enough
and i’m seeing the angles
and degrees
of seperation and permutation
waiting to spark
advertisment will see the splint
through and cut to – fade out
about face, about your face
sets the stakes interlaced
bizarre set the mar through eyes
the transition must be shadowed
unless the distinction was for, effect
existinction of intellect
dystrophic armed a fettered charm
away in the back room
sing it like swinging guillotine
cut it clean from your spine
‘clarity lost in guts of  Xerox machine’
words replace words replace words
but where went what meant
©2006-2009 ~freakoutsyndrome
:iconfreakoutsyndrome:

Author's Comments

the rooftop, gambler : moot point exact
23.January.05

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:iconcolonel-mooseus:
Beautiful piece. In particular I enjoyed the last line in particular "but where went what meant?", conclusive, yet thought provoking. Although some of the lines went over head and I became lost at some points. If you were to summarise what this poem was about, what would you say? I liked the comtemplative observations of varying art forms and outlooks. A great poem which has an incredible amount of depth and leaves you thinking, great effort!
:iconxplaguex:
the form works on this one
slap a title on it and your done
:iconfreakoutsyndrome:
it has a title...?

--
Hustlers of the world : There is one Mark you cannot beat...the Mark inside.
:iconfreakoutsyndrome:
the stupidity of the human race...building empires of convenience
when we lost the will to survive some billion years ago
the first word and upright step was our downfall.
the games we play to convince ourselves otherwise
that we are such unique and beautiful snowflakes ourselves
the lies we tell ourselves to make our lives seem relevant
the lengths we go to hide from what we're really saying/thinking/doing


thats as close as i can get to a summary

--
Hustlers of the world : There is one Mark you cannot beat...the Mark inside.

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January 23, 2006
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