......

[salienne]

For creative writing class, we were told to take an image and follow it, to trust the imagery. We also had to get off of our trigging subject. I have now done that.

And I present to you, ladies and gentlement, the worst poem of my LIFE:

The white cigarette, balanced on a finger, balanced on a lip,
Throat constricting and grimaced sucking,
My sister taking a puff and blow.
She rests on a lawn chair
Blue and White sitting trapeze
While smoke traces lilies in the fallen sky.

I lie on the pavement, hands tracing rusty gravel
Groveling, growing, and grappling on the street
Wondering what’s become more important:
Lilting loneliness or me.

My sister steps my way
A dog-paw drumming the approaching scent
And I wonder, on this sad highway
Why the embers fall on me.

I hate poetry. If this were prose, I could write something relatively GOOD. But NOOOOOOOO. -_-"

Comments

Poetry

[baddogsprocket.livejournal.com]

I don't know how to tell good poetry from bad.

It's all a secret handshake to me.

[(Anonymous)]

i actually like it, its just a little emo, and that can be fixed if you get rid of that part about loneliness i think.