Please excuse the comma splices, tense changes, verbosity, etc. I was just a youngin' and now I realize the error of my grammatical ways. Plus, I preferred the flowery and descriptive writing styles of the early 19th century and beyond rather than the short, journalistic post-Hemingway-style of writing. I love intense imagery and descriptions in general. Still deciding whether I should edit my old poetry for grammar mistakes or take the Beatnik approach and fuck it.

Disclaimer: I only wrote/write on bad days. Grand days have never inspired me enough to write as I've always used writing as an outlet. A majority of my poetry is angsty, dark humored, or depressing, however, I don't have depression, and I'm not self-destructive or suicidal by any means. My writing is mostly a tenfold representation of the kind of day I was having at the time. Embellishing the realities of my bad days on paper helped turn them into good days. Not sticking my head into an oven anytime soon (or ever, actually). :P +10 points if you got the reference.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment

Friday, August 21, 2009

A Perplexed Generation

Clinking can,
Carried by wind,
Flounders through zephyr,
Meant for blue bin,

Packets of paper,
Thrashing about,
Skimming through air,
With wings of wren,

Plastic bottles,
Propelled by wind,
Kicked to curb,
Wanders 'long road,

Nostrils remain uninhabited -
Kleenex becomes a rarity.

Buildings remain dark -
Energy prices escalate.

Homes remain frigid -
Insulation is scarce.

Game boards collect dust -
Now obsolete.

Our perplexed generation -

Copyright © 2009

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