Poetry Drafts

Poetry Drafts / / By

smakkabagms:

I need new words

and in the end

the goddess chose

her weapons; the

collected words of

bipeds, the blender

of sharpened scissors,

and reluctantly she pressed

play

.

and the pages shattered

and the paragraphs fell

and the words divine – divided;

only lettered symbols remained

.

and so it began

from the nothingness became

a single dot – not an end

a single dot – unfonted

a single thought of words

wanted – awesomely inspiring

note to self:

Poetry Drafts / / By 
note to self: it could be argued that celebrating another completed assignment with a bottle of cheap plonk, a slightly over-cooked steak and chips swimming in pepper sauce could by some be seen as predicting the marks: the never-ending tinkering of the poem drained it of all the juices; your evident struggle to explain how the poem came to be, with bits of it floating atop the battled sea of dreams

seduce me now

Poetry Drafts / / By 
seduce me now / merge our menacing streams / let our tattered thoughts scatter / beneath the oblique sky / seduce me now / make me scream the words you long for / make us dream of futures past / and our search for belonging

boots

Poetry Drafts / / By 
The thought arose and permeated:
depression by involuntary living 
in the shadows of a second 
language, in the binding boots of 
barely managing

tell me to rhyme

Poetry Drafts / / By 
You tell me to rhyme,
full-rhyme / half-rhyme / near-rhyme,
r-h-y-m-e

You tell me to squeeze another
inbetween, within my cleverly
constructed theme: internally

You tell me to echo, bounce the
words I cannot see, echo them
vowels; the consonants infrequently

You tell me much but I stress much
too, my stanzas crumble into words,
unrelating / frightening words

You tell me, I listen
to the visions emitted,
expecting the next hurdle
will brand me word murderer

allergic to words

Poetry Drafts / / By 
allergic to words
written in anger / written in pain
allergic to words I am
:
allergic to my words
allergic to my words
allergic to my words
:
allergic at the sight of them
allergic by the smell of them
allergic to the shape of them
allergic to their … absence

I Count My Chickens Differently

Poetry Drafts / / By 
I Count My Chickens Differently



me, in response to my debating whether Schrödinger’s Cat is responsible for my current and future state of mind. Did my own self-analysis collapse the superposition of states? Am I myself the one to blame?

writing books

Poetry Drafts / / By 
I told her the only likely path ahead was writing books

not looking back

a writer? her response in the native tongue we share

hesitating

no… well… maybe… just writing…

doubts rising

maybe not

writing books, I said, but only time will tell if good or ill success befalls me 
Scroll to Top