سوهانا (greenmandarin) wrote in i_kiss_girls,

poetic sampler

i know this isn't a reading group or anything like that but it is relevant on so many levels and i really just want to know what people think...the wave washes over me filled with undeniable questions
am i not the ideal student
am i not the ideal housepartner
am i not the ideal parent ot my orange cat
am i not the ideal person to inhabit this earth
am i not the idal art student who desperately wants to draw glorious
pictures but fumbles with the pencil at every attempt
am i not the ideal child
am i not the ideal writer to a society that will not understand
am i not the ideal friend
am i not the ideal?
i am not the greatest and every chance i get i mistake it for a chance to try
i am no the ideal art student
the teacher she hates me and i cannot draw
my work is not rushed it is simply imperfect
am i not the ideal employee
why are my hours cut
i am not hte fucking man and neither is he or you
and i cannot perceive a day when i will be ideal to everyone
but for a choice
i can decide that i am the ideal
i am that ideal
i am that choice
i am that demand
i am that perfect employee who always outdoes the others
i am that perfection that is sought out over decades of running
i am that deserted landscape pleading for one more day of solstice
i am that ideal friend who lets you talk for hours or
not talk at all
i am that ideal mothercat who allows herself to get run down
i am that ideal housepartner who picks up every mess made
i am that ideal student who attends every class taught
i am that
or i once was
once i was a princess in a garden of vines waiting to be unchained
once i was proposed to
once i ran away from it all again and again
once i had a choice to make
was it right
was i right
was it every politically correct to be whatever it is that i am
whatever i am
whatever i choose to be
whatever i once was
once i was whatever
was i once whatever
today is no longer full of neverending possibilities
it had been limited to this that or the other
the other
has it ever been okay to be comfortable in public
socially acceptable to become what you are while in the confines
of your own home
socially accepted
i am that socially accepted comfortable public
that eyes of what cannot speak
the voice of the blind
the soul to the millions that have already been me
the body that cannot be
the eliminated mass prejudice
the voice that speaks inutterably in tongues that have not yet been founded
the mother to a lost child beckoned to by the founders
of a lost generation
of a lost time
the psychobabble that is built from existing towers of nothing
the nothingsness that has encased itself in books on library shelves
the voice that is spoken over loudspeakers
i have become that
i am that
that which is i
i is the understable circumstantial evidence that will not hold in
courts across the country
i am that of a lost territory waiting to be found
i speak from mouthes unborn
and statues held up only by the lights that shine down on them
i am the unemployed masses waiting in line
the few the proud the sheltered
the roof over the rich and the grass beneath the homeless
the views on the television
and the lies in the paper
the focus of paintings
and the focal point of papers
on subjects yet to be determined
i am the fool who believes
i am the prophet who knows belief cannot exist without the lie
i am the poetic mess that sits in constant terror
i am the artistic heap of shit that waits on the palette
i am the stack of paper in the printer waiting to become the great american novel
i am the pencil that has been replaced
i am the all encompassing myth that seeks not to be told
i am what you desire
i am what you think of at night by yourself with all the doors and windows
i am what you do when no one is looking
i am who you see when you are married
i am what stays with you long after you have left me
i am the feeling you get when you watch the one you love
all of this
i am
i am the egocentics' downfall
i am the self-esteem lacking degenerate who cannot speak in first person
i am the teachers fear of a double barrel shot gun
i am the presidents' rug under me sits decades of untruths
i am the dog who was put down after i bit the abusive child
i amthe brush that collects the stress of being forty nine
i amthe soap that washes it all away and makes it suitable
for you to crawl in bed with your husband again
i am that rubber the separates your wife from dying of AIDS
i am the line that has been pushed back
i an the fence that is crossed
the closet that is unlocked
i am the denial you fear
i am the depth you drain
i am the feeling you feel
i am the noises that keep you awake at night
the drink you need
the drug you love
take me i am the drug
take me i am the hallucinogenic
take me
love me
i save you i kill your dreams and make you realize you are nothing
i save you from yourself
i ahnd you the blade nad dare you
i amt he blood that waits to flow
the blood that will not flow
the saliva that binds you to your duty as a decent human being
in our fucked up country
the pigment to your drab world
i am the only thing you really know
i am the only thing you really fear
the thing you know nothing about
i an the things you never wanted to know
and the things which you cannot perceive
take me i am the drug
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