I run hot and cold, sweet and sour, sometimes naughtyEven haughty, blunt too, rarely nice but often true
I run my errands in blackest black or very blue
But only in the darkest hue
I have withdrawn from most of life,
To feign a certain cool disdain
Avoiding strife, and it's illusion
Yet believe that this protects
Me from myself, and hide I do
Despite a need for human contact
I run, I run, I run from you
18 comments:
Me, too. Also, glad to have your comments at my place - I have been lurking here for over a year (although I vaguely remember commenting once before this...)
Truly, running from "you" makes marathon running seem easy. Doean't it? I love this poem and my favorite line is: I run my errands in blackest black or very blue
But only in the darkest hue.
I knew you'd busta rhyme
when it was about time.
About damn time it was
and this one's groovy 'cause
joyous stuff's down the drain,
gives me a happy in the brain.
At the very least, you are able to call out and tell us about yourself this way and it is grand. All of our past makes us what and who we are. We know some of yours. You tell us how it makes you feel. You let us try and understand. It is good. I'm afraid to do it. Not willing to take the risk. No one wants to hear my story, I think, yet I want to hear yours and those of others that will share. It's not my business to critique what you have done or how you've done it, but I will comment on how it makes me feel and what I understand about it, and it is grand.
Peace
I love the poem. "blackest black or very blue," perfect. Have a great day Utah!!
I was running errands in a red and white checked sleeveless shirt with a jaunty straw gardening hat cocked just right and spent a small fortune so I won't have to go out again soon. I could easily host a party and you guy would be my most preferred guests. I even stocked up on beer. I can make a bloody merry or a whiskey sour and I got em so I'll smoke em and I'm generous. I wish this wish could come true.
God Randal you are a very bad influence on me. I get a rhyme started and then I'm stuck trying to find a word that fits my mood and the rhyme. You still da man. Word.
Spadoman, I read you're post and it reminded me to see the good in at least this Friday, so I donned a bit of color and was friendly at the store. Now there are kids in the yard playing. One of the tenants is kid-sitting for a friend of hers for a month. So there will be the cheerful voices of a 9 and 13 year old added to the doggy noises. It's a good thing. Thanks for the reminder.
Now I must stop and put the provisions away. If it weren't for the smokes I could probably survive for almost a month on what I got today. Bargains on a whole chicken and a lovely pork loin. I got a deal on fresh spinach and baby bellos. Rice and a vegi stir fry will be my main meal. Good japanese rice. Mummm. It is true you shouldn't shop when you're hungry.
Very impressive, I am listening
Truth does not have to be pretty, and in my experience it most often is not. Striking- yes. Moving- yes. This is those things.
Namaste
Thorne's World
You knock me on my butt again with your poetry. I love this. I wear mostly black not only because everything matches or because it's somewhat slimming. I like to pretend I'm invisible when I'm out.
Very rough? I thought it was good - nay, smooth!
You are a bunch of very kind people, and anyone willing to read my first attempt at rhyme should get a prize or something.
Thome, I'll be by to visit. Thank you for showing up today.
Lisa, well, what can I say? I love you too honey.
Hi Hale! I have been lazy about working on stories, but I see you have been very busy. I will have to flog myself into getting back at it.
Rastamick, I was just at your place today. Glad to see you here.
Well done. The emotional honesty is powerful and touched me. And I don't find it rough at all, reminds me of Sylvia Plath.
LOVE it!!
I run my errands in blackest black or very blue
But only in the darkest hueI like those lines the best. They could be set to music and sung...:)
Rene, Giggles, and Lib, I'm amazed You guys like my poems.
Rene, there was a time when I read every word Plath ever published. Then the poetry after her death that Ted published. I blamed him for her death, but I know that isn't fair. A depressive like Plath is probably very hard to keep alive. So I'm thinking I probable internalized some of Sylvia.
Giggles I'm so glad you love it. Hey, I keep watching for you to post so I can come visit. Just saying.
Lib, do you write music by any chance?
wisdom...ain't it grand?
I make up songs on my guitar but usually there aren't any lyrics to go with it--it's just a tune that won't leave me alone until I play it over and over again. But I am not a skilled musician at any rate. I do it purely for self entertainment.
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