Discussion in 'Poetry Realm' started by Cigma, Dec 16, 2010.

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  1. Cigma

    Cigma Maxwell's Demon

    Apr 5, 2002
    Morning’s mourning
    Emanates from the pit of my stomach
    Suffering reeks of alcohol and last call.
    Humility and downfall

    Pent up fury turns slurry in a hurry Rabid
    Journey through misery meets martinis madness
    Mixed with alcohol applied liberally fattens
    Infantile emotions provoked evokes broken folks
    Sympathy as I willingly produce infamy simply
    A symphony of incredibly little silly
    One man act shows of plain stupidity
    Lingering long after played in them, starred.

    Handling hard liquor mad makes it trickier
    Drink lavishly and drive badly swifter
    Driver’s license applied sadly drifting
    Gladly enter inebriation’s haven a drifter
    That tenth shots a hitter and it’s like TIMBER

    Abandoning blandishments brandishing nonsense
    Rearranging fixtures within the establishment
    Window spoken becomes “Winderr…broken?”
    Misbehaving craven creating flagrant fines
    Culpable crashing multiple candy machines
    Bartenders summoning management beings
    Sheepishly abandon the scene of the crime
    Without being dragged get tossed outside
    Thirsty Horse saloon… see you next time cowboy.

    How far joy seems being alone atoning roaming memories
    Remnant presents owning from reveling in presence reverent.

    Pouring over a book referencing medicine when suddenly
    Insistently she's call me DAddy…DAAddy…dadDY! Let it in,
    Karel's candy coated sass saunters through the corridor
    molasses mortars warring with my pursuits but her mewls
    bully me to the bedroom, face full of crooked grin, doomed.

    Now waking up to the second day of break up,
    YUP still sucks as much as the first one.
    Add mistakes up dirt dug for my own grave,
    Neglectful, disrespectful, yell, want things my own way
    …as she lays warmly still, next to me a universe away,
    An artist way with words but theres no meaning in what I say
    Since I don’t make her feel very special anymore.

    The inches of distance on her face where her shiny eyes
    Look out from is simply beautiful, how come this outcome
    Tears trickling down them when we last made love?
    What ill luck that ten days before our first Anniversary,
    She wants space, moving out but I hate the sound of broken up
    So I hope and pray my sunflower returns after she takes this
  2. Coup d'état

    Coup d'état Don't believe the hype

    Jun 19, 2009
    would love to see more emotions in this, the situation begs for it.

    otherwise, it's a classic cigma-tarian peice of work

    it has mood, atmosphere and character with a swagger of sorts.

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