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[newsclippings]

I've already
made it
into the
hearts of those
diseased and
indisposed.

-

Like a droopy ballsack,
you hang over my mouth
words wrinkled and wet.

[Remember: I am far less vile than
your stench on a cold morning.]

Quite lucid when I'm loaded, yes.
And the drinks help me remember
why I ever liked you in the first place.

-

You can find me running around corners,
cursing in nondescript accents,
trying not to mention the hemorrhage
that comes with knowing yourself too well.

[rowens]

Fine with me. I read the first part like somebody gulping or choking on the words, as they go down.

The title makes you think that it might be a riddle. Though there's not supposed to be a solution, or a subject.

Just is.

[newsclippings]

I wasn't too obscene? Even I cringed as I wrote this.

[rowens]

What do you mean by obscene?

[newsclippings]

Merriam-Webster says: abhorrent to morality or virtue; specifically : designed to incite to lust or depravity

[rowens]

Then what do you mean by too obscene?

The poem sounds nice, as the lines get thicker.

[newsclippings]

I mean just that. Too obscene.

[newsclippings]

What wrong with obscene? :-P. What a sweetheart, you write something like this, and then blush. Your poems are always a little edgy, but I enjoy their originality. Their is so much obscenity in the world, should we not be aloud to write about it? Just because you write about something honestly doesn't make it your fault that it is so. Besides, there are so many writers out there (even published) who write with obscenity casually, in a trite and day to fashion, that it is refreshing to see someone calling it exactly what it is. Please don't censor yourself, don't let the cliche mongering ignoramuses corner the obscenity market. I, for one, love your poetry.

You are, without a doubt, being far too nice to what I write. But thank you.

[rowens]

Though your poems sometimes seem a little disconnected, in direction; they're really not disconnected. Your mind digs and smooths out its own time and space groove, and your sequences run on that plane.

And it's accurate. The thinking and the action and the speech. How it flows and comes together. No need to invent sequencing links after the fact, that weren't there in fact.

If people have any sense, they'll be able to follow. And they can learn to appreciate what's there, and swallow it whole without obsessing over imaginary links that they foolishly allowed themselves to learn existed, but simply distract from the point.

[Pilgrim]

I've already
made it
into the
hearts of those
diseased and
indisposed.

-

Like a droopy ballsack,
you hang over my mouth
words wrinkled and wet.

[Remember: I am far less vile than
your stench on a cold morning.]

Quite lucid when I'm loaded, yes.
And the drinks help me remember
why I ever liked you in the first place.

-

You can find me running around corners,
cursing in nondescript accents,
trying not to mention the hemorrhage
that comes with knowing yourself too well.

Hello, newsclippings.

As with music, some commentators say, there is no such thing as good or bad poetry – there is just poetry.

Whether or not this is true, reading what you had written got me to thinking about the function(s) of poetry.

Poetry, I thought, can entertain, amuse, offer an insight, or generally move the reader emotionally. Occasionally it can remain with the reader, not just as a fragment of memory, but as a permanent possession of the mind. Inevitably it is a reflection of the age in which it was written.

Alas, I confess that I did not understand your poem. But I came away from it, nevertheless, with a feeling of unease. In the course of several attempts at analysis, I found bitterness, recrimination, and an underlying ugliness.

Reading it was not a pleasant experience, though it might just be one that I will remember. So perhaps I should add to my provisional list of the functions of poetry, that of disturbance of the reader.

Regards,

Pilgrim.

[billy]

i enjoyed the piece, i think you missed an opportunity to flesh out the 1st and 4th stanza. i see below you talk about it being obscene; it isn't, in truth, it's pretty far from being obscene, i think you could really have the chance to be obscene if you fleshed it out a little.

thanks for the read

I've already
made it
into the
hearts of those
diseased and
indisposed.

-

Like a droopy ballsack,
you hang over my mouth
words wrinkled and wet. great image, (where i come from it's called tea-bagging )

[Remember: I am far less vile than
your stench on a cold morning.]

Quite lucid when I'm loaded, yes.
And the drinks help me remember would drink work better than drinks?
why I ever liked you in the first place.

-

You can find me running around corners,
cursing in nondescript accents,
trying not to mention the hemorrhage
that comes with knowing yourself too well. solid finish. i like the "you make me bleed" feeling of it.

---

so what's the title going to be.

[Ehud]

I enjoy the way this is written, it is not too obscene. However, after multiple reads I can't help but feel that I'm not fully understanding it. Perhaps if you added more it would be easier to grasp. Then again not everything has to be understood.

[newsclippings]

there is no story to understand darlin', I'm just making statements about some nondescript man.