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godreamSilly crush poetry, cut for slight Fountain potential. Very slight. Delusions, mostly, you Fountain people can probably go ahead and read it anyway if you're in the mood for utter fluff, and of course the rest of y'all were going to read it all along, right? ... Right? *listens to echoes* Argh.
dichotomy
Sometimes I think I understand you --
dissect the clockwork in your skull for points out of ten
write careful essays on post-it notes on your psychology and then
sum up findings, thesis, experiments in official red pen
And sometimes I think I understand me --
concentrate of desire in one well-picked cliche
routines, habits spun into organized days
and I'll quit with the poetry, go for what pays
And then you smile.
Falling for a boy who smiles
isn't like me.
I wanted picture-perfect
teen angst poster boys,
angry sad goth poets
expressionless. Because passion touches too deep --
and suddenly I try to explain
why the quirk of an eyebrow
is a valid reason for anything,
let alone going places for the possibility of seeing you.
And falling for a boy who smiles
isn't like anywhere I've been
(the places where the streets run straight
and the trees grow parallel
and the tears glisten with chlorine)
and it's not some fantasy landscape
(cold castle walls and swords,
wheels within wheels, hiding,
rapunzel playing hard-to-get)
it's a heart's velocity, a doppler effect
it's the blur of acceleration
it's standing still right here and laughing.
Actually, I think Rapunzel is begging for her own poem, determined to go more places than this is. So to speak.
What these poems are REALLY saying is that I feel guilty about not being at work on physics homework right now.
dichotomy
Sometimes I think I understand you --
dissect the clockwork in your skull for points out of ten
write careful essays on post-it notes on your psychology and then
sum up findings, thesis, experiments in official red pen
And sometimes I think I understand me --
concentrate of desire in one well-picked cliche
routines, habits spun into organized days
and I'll quit with the poetry, go for what pays
And then you smile.
Falling for a boy who smiles
isn't like me.
I wanted picture-perfect
teen angst poster boys,
angry sad goth poets
expressionless. Because passion touches too deep --
and suddenly I try to explain
why the quirk of an eyebrow
is a valid reason for anything,
let alone going places for the possibility of seeing you.
And falling for a boy who smiles
isn't like anywhere I've been
(the places where the streets run straight
and the trees grow parallel
and the tears glisten with chlorine)
and it's not some fantasy landscape
(cold castle walls and swords,
wheels within wheels, hiding,
rapunzel playing hard-to-get)
it's a heart's velocity, a doppler effect
it's the blur of acceleration
it's standing still right here and laughing.
Actually, I think Rapunzel is begging for her own poem, determined to go more places than this is. So to speak.
What these poems are REALLY saying is that I feel guilty about not being at work on physics homework right now.
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no subject
Date: 2004-03-21 06:53 am (UTC)Rapunzel wants me to ask you to please write a poem about her. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2004-03-24 11:38 am (UTC):D
I was trying to write Rapunzel yesterday but it didn't go. I'm gonna let her percolate a little more, I guess.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 06:21 pm (UTC)