F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S ------------------------------------------------------- - t h e p o e t r y v e n t u r e - ------------------------------------------------------- "Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them--if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry." -J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye ------------------------------------------------------- God If God is the word, and a poet is a wordsmith, Is a poet the creator of God, or just the shaper of his tale? If the word is good, But the Delivery isn't, Is the word still good? If God IS the Word, and a poet is a wordsmith, Who then, truly is the clergy. I am NOT a man of the cloth, I am a man of the pen, Or Pencil, or keyboard. Or the microphone that gives amplification To my word... The word. Remember the Word is God, and the Word is Good, and I must deliver these words good, Or I will make all that was said a lie. (and at present I don't feel sleepy) IF God is THE word, What if I speak more than one? If God is ALL words, Then is he also cursewords, or even, dare I say... Lies? Again I am NOT sleepy. Maybe what was meant was that God, is the Good words, and if my words are good, Then God is good. maybe Let me stop, because this is quickly getting over my head. Into the realm of heaven. And I speak of things I do not know, and I don' want to lie... Because I am NOT sleepy. The Mo-Man Detecting time By a moving sun, Scorching life like an exasperated run. Heading people by touch and feel, stopping the deed due to mental seal. A grabbing hand searching hope, stopping sudden by a lost scope. Fishziblu Solstice Familiar. Those feelings, the darker ones. Scattered throughout my head, clouding my conscious. Looking for that ray of sunshine. Something to clear my mind, a little brighter at least. Endless nights, colder days, it all seems to add to the mess. Winter, is synonomous with death. But soon approaches the end, the day when the nights begin to receed. Our tilted little planet realigns itself, help keep the populace hopeful of another day, ... or maybe just to cook more evenly. Waiting for the heat. Something to warm my soul, a little more passionate. Sweaty days, wild nights, clean my heart. Love, deep, with each hot breath. Rev. Reep At Times The time has come and gone, the moment has passed, the sun has set. To have told you, would have meant nothing. Or it could have meant everything. Not to have said anything, as I did, just meant you never will know. Or maybe you did anyhow. What is it to you? Why does it bother me? You and I are no less, for having done it. Sharing something together, experiencing each other. Why not just let it pass? At night, I look up, I still see the moon. During the day, the sun still shines above the clouds. For some reason it naws away, crackling pieces of me, until someday I will finally break. Or maybe it's just today. Today a day, when it gets to me. When you are not around, and I know you are not to be found. Sometimes, it's just the time. - Kamira September 5, 2000 - Tuesday reason comfort leads to the path of love some sort of mirror reflecting essence illogical thought forming a bond we brand it with an 'L' word and don't care beyond simple satisfaction and shreds of happiness pursuit of a better mental state looking for more good than bad even that is reason almost logic of sorts mea_culpa As i sit alone in the dark awaiting my life to disembark i feel the water turning red as life drains, it feels kinda weird can't feel my body as if in a dream floating above, thats what it seems peice all around, all feeling gone please tell me... why is it so wrong? blaise ------------------------------------------------------------ E D I T O R S: jericho@attrition.org, geekgrl@attrition.org ------------------------------------------------------------ to receive new issues via e-mail, send mail to majordomo@attrition.org with "subscribe poetry". if you do not have FTP access and would like back issues, send a list of missing issues and they will be sent. ------------------------------------------------------------ A V A I L A B I L I T Y: WWW: http://www.attrition.org/~poetry ------------------------------------------------------------ (c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author. ------------------------------------------------------------