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deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Heart Beating for Itself
the sleeper in the valley is haunting me,
what I should do I haven't.
I'm a junkyard full of false starts.
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,"
:Bought a book of Ginsberg:
:Thought it quite lonely:
:Found out socrates was a dumbass:
I fell asleep and was dreaming the subconscious dream,
The theorem was proven and I could breathe again.
I awoke to sirens,
nymphs,
and Orpheus standing over me.
I am a small bit of nothing, a Wes Anderson caricature,
a pre-printed, pre-made, pre-packaged archetype.
I bought guitar strings from a lovely woman,
I want everyone to hear me.
Hear me play Pitseleh.
I am quiet now,
I am soft and everyone hears me.
I don't want to say anything,
I want you to look at me and know.
I want you to see my eyes and know I am infinite.
I wake up again and I am sweating,
it was the night terror, the one I have
I was surrounded by intellectuals,
the poets and artists of our generation,
all second rate douchebags doing it for the applause and their mommys, same shit that was always done, since fucking Homer, since fucking Shakespeare, since fucking Ruddy Rimbaud.
I keep shaking,
Something is coming after me and I know it.
Maybe it's all the women I looked at wrongly,
one's from the dirty pictures big brother sold me,
Maybe it's all the sucrose and caffeine i've been inserting.
Maybe it's the nothings that i forgot to do, and others did instead.
I am a virgin.
I never fucked no one.
Fucking is stupid.
I am one of the ugliest men alive.
When the saint ended us I saw infinity.
Everything was you, in you, by you, for you, the fucking hours and hours of thought, the stupid lengthy and complicated memories where you were christmas and we were meeting the ocean, all pointless and lost to oblivion and I lost it right then and there in front of you, I sobbed and wanted to kill myself. Then you gave me a blowjob.
what I should do I haven't.
I'm a junkyard full of false starts.
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,"
:Bought a book of Ginsberg:
:Thought it quite lonely:
:Found out socrates was a dumbass:
I fell asleep and was dreaming the subconscious dream,
The theorem was proven and I could breathe again.
I awoke to sirens,
nymphs,
and Orpheus standing over me.
I am a small bit of nothing, a Wes Anderson caricature,
a pre-printed, pre-made, pre-packaged archetype.
I bought guitar strings from a lovely woman,
I want everyone to hear me.
Hear me play Pitseleh.
I am quiet now,
I am soft and everyone hears me.
I don't want to say anything,
I want you to look at me and know.
I want you to see my eyes and know I am infinite.
I wake up again and I am sweating,
it was the night terror, the one I have
I was surrounded by intellectuals,
the poets and artists of our generation,
all second rate douchebags doing it for the applause and their mommys, same shit that was always done, since fucking Homer, since fucking Shakespeare, since fucking Ruddy Rimbaud.
I keep shaking,
Something is coming after me and I know it.
Maybe it's all the women I looked at wrongly,
one's from the dirty pictures big brother sold me,
Maybe it's all the sucrose and caffeine i've been inserting.
Maybe it's the nothings that i forgot to do, and others did instead.
I am a virgin.
I never fucked no one.
Fucking is stupid.
I am one of the ugliest men alive.
When the saint ended us I saw infinity.
Everything was you, in you, by you, for you, the fucking hours and hours of thought, the stupid lengthy and complicated memories where you were christmas and we were meeting the ocean, all pointless and lost to oblivion and I lost it right then and there in front of you, I sobbed and wanted to kill myself. Then you gave me a blowjob.
Published 8th Dec 2017
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comments 4
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Wow.... This poem seems a little everywhere. There were parts that drew me in like, waking up from a nightmare to be trapped in a nightmare.
Then other parts left me looking back to see where it fit in. You have many ideas and thoughts that are solid... I just didn't see the connection all the way through
Then other parts left me looking back to see where it fit in. You have many ideas and thoughts that are solid... I just didn't see the connection all the way through
8th Dec 2017 4:15pm
You're right, it is a little everywhere. It's mostly kind of stream of consciousness, and also I think it could be considered dream like. But even so it doesn't really seem to be about any one thing which makes it confusing. It isn't articulated well but the poem truly is about purpose, and place, which leads into the idea of importance and iconic persons, hence the references to great literary people. It's about what I'd like to be and do, in reference to what's been done, and also the stupid fucking things that get in the way.
8th Dec 2017 3:40pm
I just love this, I love this write so much. you are so talented, I can't even find the words, I love the emotion in this I love this I feel this so much.
8th Dec 2017 4:04pm
I'm so happy you can relate to it! It is very deeply personal and I try to be honest, really honest, and I'm happy that someone out there understands and feels what I write. :)
