SardonicOwnsMe
05/11/06, 05:22 PM
I'm curious as to how others view my poetry. Considering my creative writing class was filled with a bunch of douches that wrote about their "last great heartbreak" in the most trite way, I decided to turn here.
This was written after studying and researching marxist theory for my literature class.
Breakfast, August 13th
I see the world in a bowl of fruit loops---
They are generic, because I cannot afford the real thing
But its ok, the message is still there:
I see the red wheels for all that they are worth.
Composed
Of bricks molded with sugar and a sense
Of favoritism towards fires & animals & life
And the like, but not for real.
And the yellow, cool clean lemon,
Circles around its prey and plunges,
Head first,
Tail up, into the
Small puddle
With the strength of a fluffy, matted-feathered
Chick.
I am overcome with
the fierceness of a great white shark
With sharpened violet teeth curled & crusted
With squishy jelly fish from
Last night’s midnight snack.
The predator, a green,
Grass-colored,
tree,
apple-coated,
Breathes slowly amongst
The poppy memorial that was
Built besides the candy-coated-sugary
Goodness.
My spoon stirs quietly.
Orange becomes the air.
It glows like the chemical
Poof that a (practicing)
Magician uses to foil his own
Trick.
Your childhood sizzles in the pan
With the bacon, the eggs
(With a side of lard, please, ok, thank you)
Breakfast is meant to be consumed.
This was written after studying and researching marxist theory for my literature class.
Breakfast, August 13th
I see the world in a bowl of fruit loops---
They are generic, because I cannot afford the real thing
But its ok, the message is still there:
I see the red wheels for all that they are worth.
Composed
Of bricks molded with sugar and a sense
Of favoritism towards fires & animals & life
And the like, but not for real.
And the yellow, cool clean lemon,
Circles around its prey and plunges,
Head first,
Tail up, into the
Small puddle
With the strength of a fluffy, matted-feathered
Chick.
I am overcome with
the fierceness of a great white shark
With sharpened violet teeth curled & crusted
With squishy jelly fish from
Last night’s midnight snack.
The predator, a green,
Grass-colored,
tree,
apple-coated,
Breathes slowly amongst
The poppy memorial that was
Built besides the candy-coated-sugary
Goodness.
My spoon stirs quietly.
Orange becomes the air.
It glows like the chemical
Poof that a (practicing)
Magician uses to foil his own
Trick.
Your childhood sizzles in the pan
With the bacon, the eggs
(With a side of lard, please, ok, thank you)
Breakfast is meant to be consumed.