The Insistence of Poetry

[Kailashana]

I reveled on the fringe,
gathered my skirts...

I loved to love and hated
my love of the tainted love
that drowned out the sounds
of drowning men in the sea of
modernity. I scoffed at excess
and drew perpendicular lines in the
sand, announcing myself the prophet
of the ages, an oracle of poetry.

Quickly, without fanfare, I bored myself,
my instigations, infatuations,
insinuations and recriminations--caught up in
a two-step of an endless loop. My DNA
was shouting mad. I became mad. I
lost myself in the abyss, everything screamed
and begged for mercy. But I was a cannibal,
I ate everything on my plate.

August rain is falling, and the noise deafens
my fortitude. I am weak with the insistence
of myself.

I will dance as long as my breath remembers how,
in spite of myself. I still write poetry.

[dadio]

I am glad you do! Fine poem.

[mnaz]

that's about where my two step is at. gotta remember to pick some blackberries every so often...

"tainted love
that drowned out the sounds
of drowning men in the sea of
modernity."... yes. it gets that way... cool.

[the mingo]

[Perdida]

[quote]
I will dance as long as my breath remembers how,
in spite of myself. I still write poetry.[/quote

Amen to that!

[Arcadia]

bravo! I have no idea..., but I´ll read you!

[saw]

we all have a unique voice and style, and that should be celebrated I feel without the kind of criticism that parallels dissecting a frog .....thankfully we all aren't all doing the same shtick.....as your poem suggests to me the author was able to look inward, as a little dose of "self" criticism is always in order.....that will, in my mind, lead us to empathy.........nice piece