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I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.

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(no subject) [Oct. 8th, 2004|08:04 pm]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
fishnetaubrey
Everyone go join __amatory_verse
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No one's posted in here in entirely too long, so I figured what the hell? [Aug. 23rd, 2004|05:33 am]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
fishnetaubrey
[this mood swings toward |rejectedrejected]

"Today is the last day of the world," he said.

But he was crazy, so no one heard him.

Oh, they heard the words, though he said it through a mouthful of his own flesh, so it was muffled a bit. They heard the words, but since he was taking a bite of his own arm, they chose not to heed them. And those who really were listening were a bit put off by the school-girl giggle directly following the statement, so in effect, they might as well not have heard him at all.

And afterall, it wasn't the first time he'd heralded the apocalypse. In fact, it was maybe the tenth or seventeenth. The records were unclear. Sometimes, the words were so muffled, the nurse heard them as, "Jesus drinks cheap wine and munches on babies," and marked it as such on the file. And regardless, paid no attention, knowing it could not be true; Jesus wasn't French.

So don't read them as the antagonist of this fairy tale. They aren't the wicked witch any more than he is the beset upon princess. They would laugh at you for suggesting it, and would not be beyond strapping you to a cot in a room with white walls and pumping you fill of Thorazine. They do not, in fact, believe in witches. But they do believe that fairy tales are the leading cause of schizophrenia in people with brown eyes.

Consequently, as a result of their feelings about persons with brown eyes and fairy tales in general, your narrarator would be in dire trouble had he occasion to meet with them. Thankfully, your narrarator knows from whom to keep his distance.

It is not for the reader to know if he was really insane, although intelligence might suggest that he was not, in fact, quite insane until after they had gotten hold of him. Their definition of lunacy is a bit skewed. They have a tendency to make people truly insane only after they've already locked them up, to prove themselves right. This doesn't make them bad; they are human. Their actions merely reenforce this idea.

Nor is it for the reader to know whether he really had prior knowledge of the coming apocalypse. He had been proclaiming it for some time; logic suggests that sooner or later he would get it right. The implication, then, is that it was merely a rare case of right place/right time.




It's just sex and violence, melodies and silence.Collapse )
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Whoa.. [Jul. 28th, 2003|02:45 pm]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.

cerebralcrunch
Doesn't anyone use this any more?
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Shameless plug. [Jun. 7th, 2003|11:12 pm]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
spacegirldream
< plug>

[Feel free to delete this if I'm breaking a rule of some sort.]

wayyouwhisper - New community, just created. No members. It's for posting all kinds of artwork - paintings, poetry, whatever.. and getting comments and critiques. Join. Because I said so.

< /plug>

(Just thought you guys might be interested.)
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(no subject) [May. 21st, 2003|01:25 pm]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
goldylockz
-newly joined-

need help-age with one of my poems.
I'm at a lost.
I don't know where I want to go with it.
and its like.... bah.
I don't want it to be gay.

...I'm open to suggestions, if anyone is interested.
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I Will [May. 18th, 2003|05:00 pm]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
fishnetaubrey
[this mood swings toward |quiet]
[this moment's theme song |"Heroin" -Velvet Underground]

Tomorrow, I will go to the store. I'll buy three slightly green bananas and four red apples, a gallon of milk and a jar of Jiffy peanut butter. I’ll buy a new mop and some more dishwashing soap, and I’ll pick up razor blade refills, the kind my brother uses now that he’s not growing his beard out. He likes Gillette best. Says they look cool even if they do nick him a lot. I think he just has shaky hands.

In two days, I will make a fruit salad. I'll cut up my bananas and apples and add three tablespoons of peanut butter, and I will mix it all together in a big blue porcelain bowl. I will pour myself a tall, cool glass of skim milk and watch Saved by the Bell reruns at noon. Later, I will carefully place my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, fill the soap dispenser, and listen to the machine growl. I will listen closely to hear life's secrets in its inane rumblings, and will be disappointed in the nothingness that meets my ears. I will take my mop and swipe across the kitchen floor with broad strokes. I will miss spots and not care that that black stain by the oven won't come up.

In three days, I will wake up early and watch the sun rise. I'll watch stars fade and wonder why no one else hears their silent screams of farewell. I'll breathe in the sweet smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen of the apartment below mine, mixed in with cigarette smoke as the man in the apartment across from mine puffs slowly, not realizing I can see inside his robe from this angle. I will slide open the screen door, walk inside, and slide it closed again without ever taking my eyes off of his ignorant nudity. The kitchen tiles will be cold on my bare feet, but not as cold as the bathroom tiles. The bathroom tiles are black and white. I'll stare at them and remember the old joke; "What's black and white and red all over?" and I'll think, "It isn't yet." I will not look in the mirror as I take the razor blade refills out of their green and black packaging. I will press one against my bare skin and my hands will not be shaking.
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good god, I'm verbose [May. 18th, 2003|04:05 pm]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
pandoraclamp
[this mood swings toward |blankblank]
[this moment's theme song |badly drawn boy - another pearl]

First-person POV. Internal speculations on a scenario involving the nature of secret love.Collapse )
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Well hello there [May. 2nd, 2003|02:26 pm]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
killyourgender
[this mood swings toward |amusedamused]
[this moment's theme song |Dot Allison - Colour me]

I've joined. Yay.

smile Aubrey :)
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here [May. 2nd, 2003|09:37 am]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
ex_nagi334
I had a terrible dream that one of my friends died, and I woke up stuffy and sweaty. But the dream was very good, and even beautiful up until that point. I was at some area that was part beach (with sand, rocky cliffs behind me, but I saw no ocean), and everything in front of me was sort of like a MAX stop (seats in a few places, covered areas, etc.) only much bigger, and there were five fountains there. I don't remember what exactly was going on in it, but I think it had to do with me going on in my life. In my pocket were a few coins, and I was going to make a wish at each of the five fountains with the coins. Someone told me that "your wishes that you make at these fountains WILL come true, so make them good ones.". I don't remember what all my wishes were, but I went around to each fountain making wishes. The first one I think was "let Tobers live long with me", the second had something to do about "let us all stay friends", the other two I don't remember, but the last fountain was hard to find- it was behind a brick wall, but there were two fountains behind it. One looked like just a small pool in the ground and the other had two waterfalls going into it from the walls on the sides. I didn't know what to do, but I had enough coins. I threw a coin at the pool looking one first but it didn't make it to the water and just hit the floor. I thought about picking it up and throwing it in, but that could have jinxed it (a failed wish, trying to make it again), so I threw in another coin and made it. Since I didn't know if that was the real one to throw them in or not, so I wished at the one with the waterfalls. I looked at the coin and my body tensed up. "To make it" was my final wish, and the coin flew into the water, making a small splash. I stood there, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did, and I went back to the sandy area. For some reason my parents were there, and they told me that my friend had died. They said they died from an allergic reaction, and I thought of a swampy area with a hat in the water (the point of view was from the marsh, hat in front of me which was covered in water sort of, but everything was green/brown), which seems like it was an important place of memory. I was so sad in the dream, and I was waking up at the same time. So I woke up.
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So.. [Apr. 30th, 2003|02:25 am]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
fishnetaubrey
..here we are.
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*plants a flag with Hank on it into the ground* [Apr. 28th, 2003|03:53 pm]
I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one.
ex_nagi334
I'm the first one here...and I came up with the "I'm a poet and I didn't even know that I am one" thing. I'm so cool.
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