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Justify a Poem

Justify a Poem.
You make me turn against myself
Justifying my breath for escaping
You make me hate the very things that are my happiness
You tell me that my love is perverse.
I am just left wanting
Always holding my breath in
For fear of escape
What is it that you want of me?
Why is that you demand this?
What do you need for survival?
Do you need to see love disappear?
Do you need to see death?
Do you hate my garden?
Why do you say that you need more?
I am quivering, shaking, unable to hold in
Your demands.
You wish I would stop breathing.
You wish I had drawn my last breath.
Somehow I sit and justify each sip of air
As if I don't deserve air, as if suffocation is justice.
You make me turn against myself.
It is not your love I seek but my own.
I am sure I won't become a republican, I am tired of justifying
Why I love.

you 08.Jul.2006 03:33

really had me

till the republican line...that fell flat on its face, for me... poet, novelist, long time writer...it's so unusual to read any poetry i like on any site like this

keep it up!

and thank you

worms can't forbid a bird to fly ;) 08.Jul.2006 08:06

let them crawl on in their dust if they choose to...

so tear it down, the rotten cloak
of sorrow and regret
the veil of guilt, the shroud of woes
these rules are no more met

unleash the Titan, yea stand up
these chains are not for you
refuse to serve, fill well your cup
you will know what to do

you have a sword and need no shield
stride forth on your own way
love is the law, do what thou wilt
and noone shall say nay

come spread your wings, you are a star
and heaven waits for you
refuse to serve, you are a star
and you know what to do

Thank you 08.Jul.2006 19:08

A response

thank you for that comment and the poem.

actually an aspect of my poetry is that I like a false tone or a jarring motion. I know that it isn't particularly clever or well endevoured, unless you start to reread the poem in perspective of a prisoner in guatanmo bay or as a lesbian or as anyone being mentally abused by Bush Monsters.

I wanted to strike a false note so that one was jarred out of the seemingly self pitying prose into a feeling of resistance- either to the poem or to this-.

The poem is actually supposed to raise a resistance to it yet, keep its simple straightforward plaintive tone lingering, why, why, why did I ruin it, when there were so many ways it could have ended?

We should all be asking that- Why would we allow ourselves to feel like we need to justify love, when this is ok, clearly, the most important part of us- humans- is our giving love - not the rest of the crap that divides us. Why would we let it end like this?

thanks for saying what you thought. I hope this clears up why I did that- even though as you say-
it makes me giggle it is so awful- it is awful isn't it? Well humor is the best resistance- it will make you healthy to resist with a laugh.

there is nothing 08.Jul.2006 20:38

that succeeds

louder than an honest attempt, authentic and inspired, which brings new life to an old form--the romantic in the sense of nietzsche--but ultimately fails to follow through. or, keep it up till the end. this brings attention to the artist and their struggle, which is more relevant today, than a true variation on an old form....would we even recognize it, had you succeeded. or, if we did, would we merely stand agape, distanced from the art. instead, the glitch, burp, bubble bursting makes it immediate, so it can belong to anyone who has tried, or would like to try...

and that is why, in very non-nietzschian or joycean sense, i am a bigger fan of the arrow that just misses the mark. who cares about the bull's eye. their world was not so relativistic as ours. they could believe, or had the luxury, that some perfect artistic form existed. we know better. quantum uncertainty has tought us that given infinite possibilites, there is no resounding: The Way, The Answer, The Best, Rightest, Truest.

I believe there is a character, Helen, in one of the Arthurian legends written at the height of the medieval ages, where she proclaims, about her illicit love:

"My passion is my truth and I would die for it."

That, to me, is the artist's way. And on that path, there is no failure save betraying the one you love: your art. And the success lies in always pursuing
that grail.