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Reply Create Your Own Life.-- The Arts & Writings.
TEH ANARCHYZ POETRY

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Poetry.
  is for faggots.
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Status Quo Joe

PostPosted: Fri Nov 02, 2007 10:34 pm
Entry one
The Forgetful Artist

Trying to recite.
trying to revive.
Trying to relive.
trying to be alright.

The artist who forgets is always lost.
always tossed aside.
and told to wait.

The artist is passive.
with nothing to say.
and all the people seem to get in the way.

his feelings made second.
his dreams cast aside.
his life flushed away.
in the room he resides.

He sits at home trying to remember.
what her face was.
she had passed away.
12 months from this day.

His love taken away.
Left to cry another day.
left to be the Artist who always forgets.

No recollection of her face.
nor of the way she seemed to pace about the room.
always nervous.
always ready.
always ready.

he sits at home and paints her.
126 paintings all different.
128 paintings all the same.
What happened.
What happened.

The days float by.
and he still is blank
by now he has given up his art.
his canvas is as he.
Blank and desolate.
cold and untouched.

as he sits at home.
in his final days.
he remembers her touch .
he remembers her face.
her walk.
her laugh.
her cry.
her silence.

He realizes it was in him all along.
and if he would have stopped her from leaving.
she would be here today.
and as he gasps for breath he cries out
"Why god, why have you forsaken me why have you left me desolate and blank. Numb and nameless.
and why have you taken her.
why have you left me here alone."

and as he gets no reply he falls backwards into blackness.
only to remember.
that his love had left for groceries all those years ago.
and she had come home with two tickets to Greece.
and he remembered how stubborn he was.
how ignorant he was.

he remember his reply
so cold and brash
"I have art to work on, it's my love and my life, and more important than Greece"

He remembers the ticket.
left on the dresser for him
the cry she emitted.
the lie he told himself.
he was not alone at all.
he just had to leave his home.
leave his art.
but too consumed by it
he forgot what was truly important.
love.
and as he died that day.
he remembered she had not passed away
but left on a plane.
and never came back.  
PostPosted: Thu Dec 27, 2007 9:58 am
wow
.
.
.
That was amazing
It made my eyes water
 

Lady Psychotic

Reply
Create Your Own Life.-- The Arts & Writings.

 
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