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poetry

At serenejournal's suggestion, I joined 100poems, which is a challenge to write 100 poems in 100 days.

I'm also still working on a backlog of poets_challenge words.


Succumbing to the disease they call sleep and dreams,
a dustman will lounge in an overstuffed chair,
a brace of hounds lying at his feet,
swirling a snifter of brandy;
a shy teenage girl can peruse a harem of muscle-bound,trembling youths, and make her selections;
a silverback CEO may, in a salon, 
be crowned by a pink plastic semiglobe 
and getting a full set of silk wraps.
Nightly their worlds dissected, beliefs rearranged -
Waking, how do they solidify, rewithdraw from possibility?
Rebecome this and not that, now and not someday? 
Our task, Sisyphian: a daily creation, 
doing out of dreaming,
something out of everything. 
Yet it's said that God
created man in his own image, not
the other way around. Who is the creator here?

04/05/05
The words were: disease, sleep (n), elegance, overstuffed (adj), peruse

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
kightp
Apr. 6th, 2005 06:19 am (UTC)
I like this. A lot.
firecat
Apr. 6th, 2005 06:26 am (UTC)
Thank you!
eeyore_grrl
Apr. 6th, 2005 06:38 am (UTC)
i love the imagery. i can see it!

and i'm giving it a try too... eek!
firecat
Apr. 6th, 2005 01:20 pm (UTC)
Thanks. And yaaaay!
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )

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