No metre, no rhyme

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K

kichigai

Guest
I've been writing poetry for a few years now, admittedly ever since finding Charles Bukowski's stuff (and a few by Henry Rollins). Before Buk, every poem I read that didn't read out like song lyrics (a rhyming word @ the end of every two lines) sounded pretentious. I had a lot to learn.
Thought I'd throw a few up here in case anyone empathizes.

With a Sigh
the one big crime perpetuated against me in this life is the failure to be understood so
I am an *******
to a great many people and
some of those people I really
wanted to love

I am insane to
a few others,
but such intense judgements can only come
from those which this planet
rarely needs anyways

I am brain-damaged to a handful,
but their simplicity is
not a threat

I am loved by less
than the fingers on one hand but
words cannot express my gratitude to them
or fill this meagre space...

how many times do you dive
into the quicksand in practicing to get out?
the treasures in being mentally irregular
are buried deep
and one can never be sure if it’s worth the digging…

fate shoots randomly, grinning madly
at the top of a tower either blindfolded,
or
with vicious intent...

Right Now
How many people are alone
How many people are in a new city where there are no friends
How many people are circling down with their souls robbed
How many are surrendered, if only for this moment
How many are dwelling in nervous agitation,
fearing to contemplate their future
even as it’s creeping up the stairs to greet them,
smiling, teeth not yet bared
And how many have lost hope after they misjudged a smile as a friendly one?
Right now...

Every Coffeeshop has Intellectuals In Love
they’re over there in the
corner,
coffee and
sweaters,
Laughter, words coughing through the
din about
situations contrived by authors
a long time ago...
similar tastes, aesthetics, familiarity with
these athletes of contentment
is impossible
suffocating me in their comfort,
their matched souls
their niche found and coveted
and protected in harmony
their wit shining like knives
and cutting any jealous bastards
within earshot...
I order it to go

:D yours with a plastic tumbler of cheap wine
 

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