Condescension and repression
waiting around, concussed
inflection making everything into a threat
sick waiting,
sick of playing
concentration, never ready
don't you see, don't you see
the one you want cannot be me
what do you want
how can you know
everything that i hide,
that i abide by
can't you see, can't you see
the one you want, it is not me
where are we
oh can't you see
the things you want,
they are not free
so why wait and linger
there is no cost
when you leave
and when you're lost
won't you see, won't you see
the things you want,
they are not free
would you say that you are free?
do you believe in what you see?
the one you want, it is not me
and while you decide to fight or flee;
the one you want
it is not me
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This is JUST A POEM , I repeat JUST A POEM .
ReplyDeletehehehe, you knew a lecture was coming. ok, i'll leave you alone. but weren't you the one that said none of your poems were written just because, even if you said they were.
ReplyDeleteok, i'll let it slide. my cousin says hi. no, she didn't read it, i read too fast... plus she was upside down. don't ask.
Hi, Penguin's Cousin! Were you hanging from the ceiling? Are you the ninja on the ceiling?
ReplyDeleteI don't recall saying that, but I do feel that poems and such must hold a grain of truth or reality to be plausible.
she was swinging upside down in her chair (like a bridge, but in a chair.. kinda).
ReplyDeleteyou did. last summer. the week that i went to the fair with amanda i had talked to you about some poems and you said it. it wasn't when i was at the fair and on the phone with you though.. all we really talked about then was kashrut and icees.