deepundergroundpoetry.com
fuck this writing shit
It always seems like other people's people put up with their people's shit more than my people will put up with mine.
I try to walk it off,shake back,
but it's different now than it was a couple of dimes ago. It hurts down in the middle of the bones where real grudges always lie. The unforgivable where you yourself are found guilty and sick of so much.
The words,syllables,strange
ethics and macabre codes.
The tortured artist cliche that used to be great to pick up chicks is now just a metal on metal migraine rattling exhaust fan above a toilet that won't flush in these institutions that are the sole reason i cannot legally own a handgun.
The booger on the mirror in the middle of my reflection reminds me that I shouldn't talk so much,
or have said anything at all for that matter.
Meanwhile the good stuff comes from the 2 inch pencil with no eraser that apparently someone thinks isn't big enough to harm myself or anyone else with.
Still I hate that fucking pencil.
I try to walk it off,shake back,
but it's different now than it was a couple of dimes ago. It hurts down in the middle of the bones where real grudges always lie. The unforgivable where you yourself are found guilty and sick of so much.
The words,syllables,strange
ethics and macabre codes.
The tortured artist cliche that used to be great to pick up chicks is now just a metal on metal migraine rattling exhaust fan above a toilet that won't flush in these institutions that are the sole reason i cannot legally own a handgun.
The booger on the mirror in the middle of my reflection reminds me that I shouldn't talk so much,
or have said anything at all for that matter.
Meanwhile the good stuff comes from the 2 inch pencil with no eraser that apparently someone thinks isn't big enough to harm myself or anyone else with.
Still I hate that fucking pencil.
Published 31st Mar 2015
| Edited 29th Apr 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 16
reading list entries 6
comments 11
reads 1247
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
31st Mar 2015 2:00am
they don't make pencils w/the firepower of a Glock, but your poems comes close...
31st Mar 2015 11:14am
The things we say to ourselves ring the hardest. That's a lot ballsier than a bunch of shit talk.
Plus it's useful. Good release brother-from-another-gutter
Plus it's useful. Good release brother-from-another-gutter
There are people in this poetry circle that get me, more than the people I grew up with, and the people I thought I cared about, seem to like the bullshit version of me more than the true version.
The more I write about what I see, the closer I get to understanding who I am. It's been destructive, I don't understand the point in watching things fall apart, only to try and build it back up again, but I know I can't deny my compulsion to create, regardless of what people think of me.
I've accepted that creative writing is simply a tool to stimulate the mind, and if I stimulate another mind in the process, even another writer, then I've achieved something.
Your style of writing has inspired me, JR, and I know there are others in this motley crew, who feel the same about your craft. I ain't pissing in your pocket, I'm just saying the way it is.
The more I write about what I see, the closer I get to understanding who I am. It's been destructive, I don't understand the point in watching things fall apart, only to try and build it back up again, but I know I can't deny my compulsion to create, regardless of what people think of me.
I've accepted that creative writing is simply a tool to stimulate the mind, and if I stimulate another mind in the process, even another writer, then I've achieved something.
Your style of writing has inspired me, JR, and I know there are others in this motley crew, who feel the same about your craft. I ain't pissing in your pocket, I'm just saying the way it is.
31st Mar 2015 1:25pm
Yo yo... Good shit big homie. Good to see ya. The hard energy of your spur of the moment- relying on your experience stuff is as good as ever, with this shinier coat of polish I think dude... Don't matter much if you are actually spending hours editing or not, there is a lot of maturity in this without losing any of that Hotwire type thing.. Really diggin it... I would knock off that last line - not necessarily bad line, but I think the line before it is more powerful, and just a perfect place to end... No matter, great write
31st Mar 2015 9:06pm
Whirlwind journey inside. I hate pencil nubs too, they speak too much of past work. Good work, jr.
Anonymous
- Edited 14th Oct 2019 3:45am
2nd Apr 2015 5:02am
<< post removed >>
12th Apr 2015 5:32am
Absolutely jaw on concrete awesome, John. The tortured artist cliche stanza is fucking brilliant !
14th Apr 2015 3:56am
28th Apr 2015 10:29pm
I can't say any other compliments for this massive piece since every one else has said it, but damn do I relate.
It has been written.
Darker.
It has been written.
Darker.
22nd May 2015 10:24pm
I am speechless with your writes. Raw, gritty, enormous, powerful, the work of a great.
Johnrot, luv ~ :-*
When I came back to the realization and acknowledgment that I was a poet last year about this time, twas an utterly devastating thing. I remember sobbing and sobbing, my heart feeling torn apart as I understood that to continue not writing would be a death and not something from which I could recover at the same time that I remembered why, as a 17 or 18 year old college student, though knowing in my bones I was a poet, I walked away from it, shoved that knowledge deep inside, and finally, forgot for a time. The knowledge that poets were the epitome of starving artist remains with me even now...
No matter. Tis as necessary as water, as blood.
Even when it's agonizing.
This poem of yours, luv, is profound. You convey precisely this in ways that connect viscerally. I know you know these truths and more, and they are strange and arcane ones indeed. But, they are ours.
Sweat and blood. Tears too, luv. I'm feeling this one deep inside, you canny, insightful, street-smart genius, you... :-*
When I came back to the realization and acknowledgment that I was a poet last year about this time, twas an utterly devastating thing. I remember sobbing and sobbing, my heart feeling torn apart as I understood that to continue not writing would be a death and not something from which I could recover at the same time that I remembered why, as a 17 or 18 year old college student, though knowing in my bones I was a poet, I walked away from it, shoved that knowledge deep inside, and finally, forgot for a time. The knowledge that poets were the epitome of starving artist remains with me even now...
No matter. Tis as necessary as water, as blood.
Even when it's agonizing.
This poem of yours, luv, is profound. You convey precisely this in ways that connect viscerally. I know you know these truths and more, and they are strange and arcane ones indeed. But, they are ours.
Sweat and blood. Tears too, luv. I'm feeling this one deep inside, you canny, insightful, street-smart genius, you... :-*
