punkpixie
01/17/05, 02:10 PM
This is a poem I wrote a while back. It's a little weird but it makes sense to me. I am fully aware that people may question my sanity after this one but anyways, here goes (I have posted this before by the way):
I have just woken from a dream,
in which you spoke to everyone but me.
And now I feel sorry for myself.
We were in the supermarket and
you were buying bags of cloud.
Tins of rainbows. You ask the checkout cat
where the cheese is. He doesn't know.
I watch you from aisle to aisle,
walking ahead with the others,
talking like you own the place.
Like you own my head. You do.
It's a pity because if I was asked
where things were my red face
and sweaty palms would have
answered: "they're over there"
Walking on my own I feel like
I've finally caught up to you.
That is until you pull in front
and your footsteps laugh:
"The best thing about this game is
there are no rules" Damn. And still you talk.
Two to a space they gather round you
like flies while you gargle jokes.
Ha Ha. As you stop to make gestures
and fill your basket with compliments,
I seize the moment. "What do you want?"
You are irritated.
..........."Ummmm". I hesitate and shuffle.
Down the other aisles weird dream food
starts to listen. Everyone's listening.
And now the words escape me,
In plural fashion, safe as houses,
They dance and sing like mouses.
I have just woken from a dream,
in which you spoke to everyone but me.
And now I feel sorry for myself.
We were in the supermarket and
you were buying bags of cloud.
Tins of rainbows. You ask the checkout cat
where the cheese is. He doesn't know.
I watch you from aisle to aisle,
walking ahead with the others,
talking like you own the place.
Like you own my head. You do.
It's a pity because if I was asked
where things were my red face
and sweaty palms would have
answered: "they're over there"
Walking on my own I feel like
I've finally caught up to you.
That is until you pull in front
and your footsteps laugh:
"The best thing about this game is
there are no rules" Damn. And still you talk.
Two to a space they gather round you
like flies while you gargle jokes.
Ha Ha. As you stop to make gestures
and fill your basket with compliments,
I seize the moment. "What do you want?"
You are irritated.
..........."Ummmm". I hesitate and shuffle.
Down the other aisles weird dream food
starts to listen. Everyone's listening.
And now the words escape me,
In plural fashion, safe as houses,
They dance and sing like mouses.