2001-07-10 - 7:54 p.m. - poema_malum3

Click here for my miserable poetica-collab entry.

I really should practice.

A need to babble stays my... not my hand, larger than that. My body. I'm forgetting words faster than ever before, but what are they replaced by? That's what I want to know. The thought that things should just be falling out of my brain, replaced by nothing- that's terrifying, although it does provide a rather amusing picture (there I am, standing at the head of the stairs, and suddenly "rapacious" leaps out of my skull and bounces to the bottom, spent.)

I. Have been annoyed, annoying, and falling just short of depressed for a lot of this month and it doesn't help that tour withdrawal is starting to kick in. I feel even worse than I usually do, which to hear others tell it is an accomplishment (although I know it's not, really it's not... I have to deal with nothing if you compare me to some others.) Congenital PMS? Thank whatever powers are responsible that I haven't quite gotten around to menstruation. Now THAT would be quite interesting.

I look back on what I've written and thought and it all seems so ridiculously self-serving, so... cheap. Why am I indulging my ego so by writing here? Why do I pretend that what I feel is anything new?

Graaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh.

some days i see only-
columns on columns of refugees
homes lost- burned or sold?
things they knew- but distant shadows
floating in the mists...

where will they go:
who can receive such sadness?
their consolation:
their escape
and the search for what they loved, lost...
dare they watch as their new dream floats?

Ick. I want to get *something* in for this month's poetica-collab... perhaps later I will try again, but that's it for now. Pure dreck.

Ta-ta for now. Maybe my mood will clear up (and then again, maybe it won't... grr.)

J