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when i think too much,too long i cant stop until i pass out a day or 2 later

C

Catface

Bluelighter
Joined
Jun 20, 2003
Messages
15
Location
california
my cavernous existence. (like yours?)
occasionally I approach a shadow or a ghost.
otherwise i am that.

a guy spends two weeks going to a popular street in LA and talking to strangers.

and i look for something that each does not believe exists.

I came home when this street went to sleep.
but i could not stay here.
there is a monster that likes to taste my flesh and is never satisfied.
i left. but the only love i could muster is the most unsatisfying...ironic.
I drove near your house so that i may close my eyes and still see.

I called you. You spoke to me until you were nothing but sleepy grape jam sliding off of your bed and onto the floor.
Again, I love you.
She believes that i might not be completely forthwright.
I'm sorry. I'll try to be conscious of this next time. next time.
maybe you envelope me in your every little thing.
Like being in a bottomless pool of something I simply cannot express in words.
Maybe in any other way as well.
My mind cannot be trusted.
 
a compliment or praise would be useless to me had i not wrote this. i wrote this spontaneously after opening the "new topic" window. if i sound sarcastic, i dont mean to. i am happy that you enjoyed it.
 
and i am happy when you are happy.
i am your bigget fan.

i slipped and fell slowly
gravity didnt slow me down
it was a voice

that of a cat which had acquired a face
 
Catface, I liked this, though I had a few problems with it changing between 1st and 3rd person. I like your way of turning phrase and the absence of cliche.

:)Smiley
 
reading my reply to bbj, i realize i was (unecessarily and, i think unintentionally) an asshole...i am sorry bbj.

smiley guy, i appreciate your appreciation. do you think you could elaborate on your "few problems". i am an acutely neurotic beast... i have been writing this sentence for 15 minutes...i will stop and just say that i am curious and do not understand what troubled you.


you poor beast;
your limbs are subjected to torturous rack while your mind wanders through foggy night-lit sky.
When your mind returns to you and your infantile fears,
there is but a sense of dread and restlessness; that is your . . . existence.
your heart, caged, bruised, crying
do not fear ...
for, though
YOU

in your existence is like glass buried
in antarctica...,.,.,,,,.,.,.,...,.,.,....,...,.,.,,..,.,.,.,..,,.,.,...,.,.,,..,.

do not mistake or underestimate you wonderful and mysterious dread.
this feeling is evidence of will.


wishing you vitality and powerful feelings of unpleasantry ,
CatShmatRatFat
 
*despite my cureent neurosis(ies?) this took no more than 2 minutes to write (two minutes in clock language).
 
koshka leetso, i think what :) ><> was refering to when he metioned your constant change from first to third person is...

in your firs line you write, "my cavernous existence. (like yours?)"

yet three lines later you write, "a guy spends two weeks going to a popular street in LA and talking to strangers."

where the "a guy" is still refering to yourself.
right after that you switch back to fist erson in saying that, "and i look for something that each does not believe exists."

i have done a little revision of the poem (although i still love the original), tell me wht you think.

my cavernous existence. (like yours?)
occasionally I approach a
shadow
or a ghost. otherwise
i am that.

i spent two weeks going to a trendy cell
-- in the midst of hipsters, punks, junkies, pseudo intelectual artistic charlatans

and found that what im seeking exists in my mind only

I came home when the cell doors were shut
but i could not stay there.

there is a monster that likes to taste my flesh and is never satisfied.
i left.
the only love i could muster is the most unsatisfying...ironic.

I drove near your house so that i may close my eyes and still see.

I called you. You spoke to me until you were nothing but sleepy grape jam sliding off of your bed and onto the floor.
Again, I love you.
You believe that i might not be completely forthwright.
I'm sorry. I'll try to be conscious of this next time.
next time.
envelope me in your very substance.

Like being in a bottomless pool of something I simply cannot express in words.
Maybe in any other way as well.
My mind cannot be trusted.

------sorry if i murdered your poem. i love you. all this cat needs is a little tuna fish.

---aliks
 
your murder is like cool, pre-stirred lemon yogurt on a wild roller coaster drop called prolonged sleep deprivation. its a new ride at Knotts.
 
this is a roller coaster that i ride often. as a matter of fact im sitting right behind you as i whisper these words into your left ear. all thats left is for you to turn around and look at me, for then i shall say words that will be no more of a shock to you than flipping through six empty pages only to realize they are filled with words.
"i love you," i shall say.
 
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