Alright

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Tags:
  • Angst
    • jude
    • says what is status to true life anyways

    Alright

    I am sitting here on my 12 string guitar
    And my fingers barely can tell where they are
    They have no new chords like I’d hoped they would find tonight
    I have no new words to help bleed my mind
    And my fingers have no calluses
    I haven’t played this thing since God knows when
    Of all the activities I could’ve picked tonight
    It seems that I’ve chose the one that I don’t know how to do
    Right

    I am sitting here in my life in a jar
    Just examining how it’s gotten this far
    I am tapping on the glass and examining the lid
    I am completely perplexed at how the hell I fit in here
    On a daily basis I am planning my escape from this
    But I can’t see past the jars’ reflection of my face
    Of all the vanishing acts that I have pulled in my life
    It seems that I have found the one I don’t know how to do right

    I am looking for description; a meaningful inscription
    Of how it is and where it’s gone
    I am searching for support, and belief, and relief
    From a denial that scorns my existence to the teeth
    So most of the time I am just sitting in my mind
    I don’t know where you think you are or how you could expect this of me
    I always hoped that I would find the love of my life
    But it seems that I have landed a one that won’t do me right

    So let’s get to the reason that I don’t just end this
    My pathetic excuse of being totally dependent
    But not just me, the four that followed
    My love or belief while in the muck I wallowed
    Yes it was insanely foolish and incredibly super-selfish
    My past desperate needs will have all of us paying for this
    In the past I would’ve just left for a new life
    But it’s obvious there is no answer here that is right

    So I live undercover my poems are like mumbles
    My thoughts are barely breathing and my freedom is jumbled
    My importance wanes as my colors are fading
    My overzealous righteousness is dead and degrading
    The shadow of oppressiveness will walk through that door tonight
    And everything that’s special will just drop to the floor and I will sigh
    Of all the things that I could’ve done right by my light
    It seems that I have chosen the one that won’t let me shine bright

    Yes I’m sitting here on my 12 string guitar
    And my fingers so sore still can’t tell where they are
    They’ve certainly got no new chords for me tonight
    And all the words in the world will not make this life
    Alright

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    devaamido commented on Alright

    10-25-2009

    It's good that you've put all these self put-downs and fear-driven negative expectations on paper. My advice to you is to make a copy of this, wad it up, & burn it in your fireplace on the 31st of this month. On the 1st of November, THANK the Universe for giving you such challenging life. This is damn good poem!

    jude

    11/29/2009

    That one is an oldie I thought I'd throw up there cause I was board. It is actually a song with music and beat. But thank you. I have tried the burning ritual, has never done a thing for me.

    In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

    Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

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