Poem Tears to a friend

Discussion in 'Writer's Cafe' started by ScaryHobo, Jan 8, 2018.

  1. ScaryHobo

    ScaryHobo Harem Master

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    Hello everyone! This a poem I'm working on for a friend! He tried to commit suicide about a month ago, and Ive been trying to cope with it. We both are struggling, and I wanted to write a poem communicating my grief: why I don't want him to ever think in that way again. Mental health is terrifying, and I want to help him in any way I can. I want to fight for him. So this is a poem I wrote, fighting back at both of our fears.

    Side note this poem's structure mimics Allen Ginsberg's "Howl" in the first part.
    I saw the greatest mind of our generation crumble cripplingly along the walls of the Berlin,
    Who cries with apathetic yelps of a dog running in circuitous cycles of a cataclysmic circus,
    Who rinses and repeats his vicious, viscous mind over the raw leather, binding his brain, keeping it intact, love--love with no meaning no purpose no higher reality of being, seeing, smelling, or any sensory mind parade that rips the leather apart into strings, whipped by the pointless puppeteer,
    Who cries with anguish at the scientist or the politician for his battle against fate,
    Who yells, screams, and punches his way into the heart of man, barking with vitriolic volts that shock the thousands of ignorant crowds into blank stares,
    Who fucks the fuckery of plain poultices of puberty that mean nothing, yet it's his life; it's his soul; it's his purpose,
    Who sobs cataracts of dark, black mud that never stop pounding with their constant rhythm,
    Who laughs with a smirk that stabs the soul, making us feel alive,
    Who satirizes the world with his front teeth, smiling and giggling with his curly hair blowing in the wishful wind, and he glares at us, demanding us to breathe,
    Who loves us and makes us whole with his destructive irony that forces our brain to rumble onto itself and fight the tide that keeps coming and moving and keeps coming and moving, waving, drilling, slamming, yelling with enough noise to explode eardrums of every elephant in existence,
    Who is an elephant, remembering every word that's ever been spoken to force himself to become whole,
    Who keeps looking, asking, questioning, and he uses his quizzical mossy eyes to make your heart explode with questions of the world.

    Hear my cry, my plea, my moan
    Multitudes of Muses sing their hearts out, and you can't hear us
    Listen to my tears
    A hailing torrent of a hurricane that is so loud my ears ring with the buzzing and beeping of a thousand cicadas that just keep screaming, yelling and moaning

    I feel your pain so vividly that I look at my white wall, and I see a circus
    Elephants, lions, and the powerful, muscular men and the plantation owners who laugh at us with their systemically racist, xenophobic roars, and I just sit here moaning, moaning at our empty hearts that have been hollowed out by the lion tamer and the bearded woman and they spit, taunt, and laugh in our faces like the elephants that we are
    We live for these people, we die for them, we love them.
    We give them our ideas, and they chew them up and spit the peanut shell right back into our face and we just keep eating the peanuts with our hungry mouths.

    Driving with daring Duncan through the sad, beat roads of marijuana Middletown.
    The cigarette butts turn into juul pods as we drive through the barren roads, and we glean the landscape for life--love.
    We chase the puppies, and we see the sun permeate through the clouds with its sharp red and gentle orange.
    We thump our hands on the windows, hearing the Strokes strike their guitars with a gusto of life that we cherish with every filament fiber in our body.

    We chase clouds that people live and die for in their hopes and dreams;
    My friend, we must hold onto the seams
    Silence the screams
    Treading on the edge, we must balance on the beams.
     
    Shannon Apple likes this.

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