Two poems, question mark
Hey, guys! Sorry I haven't been around. I *have* been in a poetry mood (September here is sort of what April is in the US, poetry-mood-wise).
I have a blackout thing based on Freud.
vital sources of enjoyment
vital sources of enjoyment
other instincts, other paths
the familiar instinct of artistic play
if one were to yield to this instinct,
much satisfaction,
powerful relationships
will ensue.
(Inspired by metaparadox's List of Words and Phrases that May Have Been Used to Discuss Asexuality, I took a casual little poke at a fragment of Freud's "Civilization and Its Discontents", translated by James Strachey, that discusses sexual sublimation and repression. This is the only paragraph of Freud's text that I've read.)
***
And I have a heap of imagery about conversations.
there is conversation like
the bag of onions on our fridge:
I don't know who started it,
but it never runs out,
though it fades in and out of the background,
always there when I reach for it
there's conversation like
homemade stew
left out on the windowsill,
which tastes off for long days of "it's still good", "it's still fine":
heavy,
made with way too much effort,
I'd need a long walk through the woods to make it settle,
and no, it's not still good,
and I'll say I don't care if it used to be
(but we can't throw it out,
can we?
maybe put it in the chicken food?)
conversation like chips:
the sharing of the bag IS the nutrients
conversation
like I imagine wine
(I imagine it more than I drink it):
the measured headiness of sipping,
the rush of
attempted sophistication as I
try to hold the glass like real adults
and savor the bittersweet aftertaste,
the comforting burn
conversation like the memory of
passing around water while working:
purely functional,
and that's what makes it a feast.
Pls take into account I am not currently in shape to handle constructive criticism, thanks.
This entry was originally posted at https://thenewbuzwuzz.dreamwidth.org/231604.html.
I have a blackout thing based on Freud.
vital sources of enjoyment
vital sources of enjoyment
other instincts, other paths
the familiar instinct of artistic play
if one were to yield to this instinct,
much satisfaction,
powerful relationships
will ensue.
(Inspired by metaparadox's List of Words and Phrases that May Have Been Used to Discuss Asexuality, I took a casual little poke at a fragment of Freud's "Civilization and Its Discontents", translated by James Strachey, that discusses sexual sublimation and repression. This is the only paragraph of Freud's text that I've read.)
***
And I have a heap of imagery about conversations.
there is conversation like
the bag of onions on our fridge:
I don't know who started it,
but it never runs out,
though it fades in and out of the background,
always there when I reach for it
there's conversation like
homemade stew
left out on the windowsill,
which tastes off for long days of "it's still good", "it's still fine":
heavy,
made with way too much effort,
I'd need a long walk through the woods to make it settle,
and no, it's not still good,
and I'll say I don't care if it used to be
(but we can't throw it out,
can we?
maybe put it in the chicken food?)
conversation like chips:
the sharing of the bag IS the nutrients
conversation
like I imagine wine
(I imagine it more than I drink it):
the measured headiness of sipping,
the rush of
attempted sophistication as I
try to hold the glass like real adults
and savor the bittersweet aftertaste,
the comforting burn
conversation like the memory of
passing around water while working:
purely functional,
and that's what makes it a feast.
Pls take into account I am not currently in shape to handle constructive criticism, thanks.
This entry was originally posted at https://thenewbuzwuzz.dreamwidth.org/231604.html.