Bad Blogger

I guess I am a terrible blogger and even worse writer. I give up quickly and never have anything to say.

I'm gonna try some free flowing poetry...it has been so long since I have written any kind of poetry. College poetry class, maybe?

~~~~~~~~~~~

The doomsday soothsayers
are standing on street corners
still trying to tell us how to live
our lives like our souls were spun glass
that need to be swathed in cotton
laid at the bottom of a long forgotten drawer
An ornament to be taken out once or twice a year
Inspected gingerly then tucked away
My soul, mind, inner self
is not a a collectors item that is only worth
something in it's orginial box
never to be touched directly by human hands
I live my life to be broken
and remended covered in fingerprints
of every person who has come near me

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a question mark
growing beneath my navel
pulsing quietly causing disharmony with
my breath, my heart beat
I am aware of my toes, my breast
my head, brain, intenstines
The heat between my legs
but deep beneath my stomach there is
a place that feels hollow
and broken
I look at you and can imagine you
full with something
that isn't mine but feels connected
like a cord between our bellies
I am not made to fill you up
but want to give you sustenance
and air to breath and water
I want to press my ear to a seashell
and hear the ocean inside roaring

~~~~~~~~~~

My own criticism...
Pretty trite and unoriginal. I don't think there are enough layers of meaning and not so thought provoking. The language isn't enough. I'm not painting a picture or conveying a feeling. Both bits are very unfinished, incomplete.

The first one...I like the rhythm of it, the way it feels ocming out of my mouth. I feel like I can expand it, somewhat. I want to erase it. It isn't what I wanted to say at all. There is so much that isn't there.

The second one...feels a bit lost, masturbatory, waahwaahwahh...Doesn't feel right in my mouth. I like poetry to be spoken. Heard. Become something.