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Array
(
[sid] => 61281
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Eye of the Storm
[time] => 2004-08-24 20:58:00
[hometext] => communication has been broken and so have I
[bodytext] => I stare at the clock with its ticking and caustic TOCK. The second hand reminds me of a needle injecting a time narcotic. One that makes me sick the more I think about it. Painfully numbing my skull, yet somewhat hypnotic. Why are there two of them here with their six hands… they can’t even keep the same pace. A cigarette calls my name. Or was it only mocking me? I can’t seem to tell the difference these days. The closest thing to a feeling I have is only compared to that of the Clown Fish to my left. Stuck inside a dirty fish tank… he has nothing funny to say. Swimming forever and getting nowhere until he finds that sewer drain. My life swirls around that same toilet bowl, drowning in this porcelain infinity... my city street. I feel like it’s leading me so far away from her, but where is she? nothing but an empty screen… the aftermath of a hurricane. God, I hope she’s ok… and to you Charley, where have you taken my dream?
[comments] => 2
[counter] => 164
[topic] => 22
[informant] => Diatribe
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 4
[ratings] => 1
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => LostLove
)
Eye of the Storm
Contributed by
Diatribe
on
Tuesday, 24th August 2004 @ 08:58:00 PM in AEST
Topic:
LostLove
|
I stare at the clock with its ticking and caustic TOCK. The second hand reminds me of a needle injecting a time narcotic. One that makes me sick the more I think about it. Painfully numbing my skull, yet somewhat hypnotic. Why are there two of them here with their six hands… they can’t even keep the same pace. A cigarette calls my name. Or was it only mocking me? I can’t seem to tell the difference these days. The closest thing to a feeling I have is only compared to that of the Clown Fish to my left. Stuck inside a dirty fish tank… he has nothing funny to say. Swimming forever and getting nowhere until he finds that sewer drain. My life swirls around that same toilet bowl, drowning in this porcelain infinity... my city street. I feel like it’s leading me so far away from her, but where is she? nothing but an empty screen… the aftermath of a hurricane. God, I hope she’s ok… and to you Charley, where have you taken my dream?
Copyright ©
Diatribe
... [
2004-08-24 20:58:00]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Eye of the Storm
(User Rating: 1 )
by waos on
Tuesday, 24th August 2004 @ 09:34:40 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| that was good, like, you can feel the blahness and emptiness that is what you feel.. the pointlessness if you call that a word. good write. i know how you feel a bit. |
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Re: Eye of the Storm
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Wednesday, 25th August 2004 @ 10:06:40 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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I would have preferred some stanzas in here, but I guess I could live without punctuation of poetry for just this once. I like your rhymes and they drag me through what I perceive to be your apathetic melancholia . . . or something close to that, at least.
I would have liked to see you rhyme 'porcelain' and 'hurricane', though - I think its still possible.
Nice write. Keep at it. |
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