BlueIris
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Mon Jul-06-09 08:16 PM
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The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 7/6/09 |
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Edited on Mon Jul-06-09 08:19 PM by BlueIris
"Boomerang"
Our lives are like pantoums. Those lines come back To haunt us. Say your mantras, make your peace. Every slur you heard is elegiac: Something dies within. Something is released
To haunt us. Make your mantras, say your piece. You were worthless then, dear. And worthless now. Something dies within. Something is released. In time you'll learn to let your goodness go--
You were worthless, then, dear, and worthless now-- And concentrate on arts of pain instead. In time, you'll learn, too. Let your goodness go To waste on every partner in your bed,
And concentrate on arts of pain. Instead of needing love, remember you have lines To waste on every partner in your bed: You disappoint me. You show all the signs
Of needing love, remember? You have lines To undermine a person's getting close. You disappoint me. You show all the signs. If you're nothing, you have nothing to lose,
To undermine. A person's getting close, Every slur you hear is elegiac. If you're nothing, you have nothing to lose. Our lives are like pantoums. Those lines come back.
~Michael J. Bugeja
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CaliforniaPeggy
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Mon Jul-06-09 08:18 PM
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Well, this is a sad one...
But I like its lyricism, the way the words turn...
Thanks!
:hi:
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BlueIris
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Mon Jul-06-09 08:20 PM
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2. I really like this author. I wish he were more well-known. nt |
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Thu Apr 18th 2024, 11:20 AM
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