Friday, November 15, 2002

"mister frustrated-poem"

i have to sleep
but i can't

i makeshift mischief
and i drift my hips into the chaotic collision
of the sound of poetry

(or the present lack thereof)

nothing's coming out tonight!
not a verse
not a rhyme
not even a murmur

i have a dizzy silence
roaring thoughts cyclone my head
and they refuse to roll out

i don't know why
i just can't put anything into words right now

i have something to say
i know it
(i just can't right now)

it's pointless to poetry
when i'm suffocating on my own
inaudbile gulps

i'm here
teetering on the brink
always drawn closer and closer to it
but never quite close enough
to say anything