Master Electrician
Pretty pretty lights
- 107
- Posts
- 15
- Years
- Age 35
- Roland Dille Center for the Arts
- Seen Jul 20, 2009
I'm gonna avoid cluttering the forum with a bunch of unnecessary threads, and collect all of my poetry in one spot. I used to be a pretty prolific poet, and it's something I keep trying to get back into. So without further ado, two of my favorite pieces. Critiques are always appreciated.
Ode to a Teenage Summer
My parents are bugging me to get a job again
Because my friends are all busy and they're
Sick of me hanging upside-down off the couch
My nose firmly in a book that I've read before
Yelling at them around the dinner table doesn't help
It makes my sister run off to her room in tears and I
Stalk into the cool dank of the basement to eat a Popsicle
Until my guilt forces me upstairs again to apologize
To the unreceptive ears of forgetful adults who tell me that it's okay
But tomorrow they come to tell me to work again
They went out to pick up some applications
I say that I'll fill them out but we can all taste the lie
I won't, and they know it and none of us care
I take the dog for a walk that evening in a pretense of productivity
But really, I'm only there to enjoy the gathering dark and the uncritical wind
Welcome to the Emerald City
Mine is the realm of Magic.
At my whim, lights flash, and
Sound resonates, bringing
The sweet words of The Bard to your ears.
Mine is the realm of imagination.
I alone create the stage, full of sound and fury,
Its existence my doing,
And its players, my pawns.
Mine is the realm of illusion,
Turning silver wood to flashing sword,
Making a heroine from one of you,
Turning the ordinary to the exalted, the enviable.
Mine is the realm of the theater,
The grand drama and pageantry
For you to sit through, oblivious of my existence,
Aware only of the world I want for you to see.
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain
My parents are bugging me to get a job again
Because my friends are all busy and they're
Sick of me hanging upside-down off the couch
My nose firmly in a book that I've read before
Yelling at them around the dinner table doesn't help
It makes my sister run off to her room in tears and I
Stalk into the cool dank of the basement to eat a Popsicle
Until my guilt forces me upstairs again to apologize
To the unreceptive ears of forgetful adults who tell me that it's okay
But tomorrow they come to tell me to work again
They went out to pick up some applications
I say that I'll fill them out but we can all taste the lie
I won't, and they know it and none of us care
I take the dog for a walk that evening in a pretense of productivity
But really, I'm only there to enjoy the gathering dark and the uncritical wind
Welcome to the Emerald City
Mine is the realm of Magic.
At my whim, lights flash, and
Sound resonates, bringing
The sweet words of The Bard to your ears.
Mine is the realm of imagination.
I alone create the stage, full of sound and fury,
Its existence my doing,
And its players, my pawns.
Mine is the realm of illusion,
Turning silver wood to flashing sword,
Making a heroine from one of you,
Turning the ordinary to the exalted, the enviable.
Mine is the realm of the theater,
The grand drama and pageantry
For you to sit through, oblivious of my existence,
Aware only of the world I want for you to see.
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain