I hear the thunder meddling
its way among the raindrops
that permeate through sunlight
and realize
that the weather is a motif
for God's emotional prognosis.
God is but a seaman;
he and I stammer upon the same boat.
Our existence makes a pair
of helplessly hanging doppelgangers,
orbs of confusion that contract
whiplash with every turn they make.
Two repressed housewives
that put all their hopes and dreams
in a shit-stained smile.
This collision of light and malevolance
is but His way of symbolizing
my shame-patronized indecision
in a way that makes people tear up
at the joy of beauty.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
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holy fucking shit
ReplyDeleteI know how you feel about this one. =)
ReplyDelete<3
I really like the fourth stanza.
ReplyDeleteI'm a bit confused about your relationship to God in this poem, though. Is he your equal, suffering along with you? Or is he chiding you?
Oh, and you misspelled 'malevolence.' :)
he suffers with me, the thunder contrasting with the sunlight is his manner of connecting with me, not some way to taunt my emotions.
ReplyDeleteOkay, I thought so. Thanks for clarifying.
ReplyDeleteNo prob =)
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