Another Successful Day

I was kind of torn whether to post this whole thing or just the best sections of it. Usually I just post the best section(s) when I end up free-associating a mess like this. But I think it’s entertaining as a whole, maybe you will too. At the very least you can get a sense of my poetry process… or lack thereof.

And yes, I was feeling extra crazy yesterday. Gaze upon what low blood sugar has wrought.


 

And so it goes

And so it grows

Another day

Another flaw exposed.

And everyone

Is digging in their toes

They don’t get

That shit just overflows.

 

Put a bird on it.

Fffuuucckk

I’m writing this bit for me

I’m writing that bit for him

And this one for her.

And who the fuck are you?

Well

Have a little piece of my soul

I’m not using it anyway.

 

Why does the devil want souls

I think he’s in some kind of an arms race against god.

Once he gets more souls than god

he can begin the war?

Well maybe it’s his pride

maybe this is all about

His stupid ego

Like he wants a bigger business than god

But surely his business is bigger

Everyone says it is

But fuck that

What do they know

They want to think themselves the persecuted few.

 

I don’t want it

I don’t want it.

Take it back with you

I don’t want it.

Give it to your wife

You crazy sick bastard

Tell her it’s from me

Tell her I said

I think she’s pitiful

And I pity her

For being with you

And drowning in a pool of lies

She doesn’t even know she’s dying.

Like a frog in a slow boil.

 

People hurt

People steal

People love

People heal

People kill

People die

People always

Wonder why

People win

People lose

People live

What they choose

People give

People take

People bend

People break.

 

You are different.

You can see.

You are not like others be.

You don’t struggle as they do.

They don’t seem to have a clue.

You are far removed and free

You are pure and

Okay you’re just a fucking sex addict, who are you kidding.

 

Give us a kiss.

Give us another.

Give us three.

Kiss deeper.

Deeper.

Let us tongue you.

Let us inside.

Let us inside you.

We want what’s best.

We care.

Let us take care of you.

Give us a kiss.

 

How to just not.

Here’s how:

…..

Mostly that.

Also if you want to join the revolution

Don’t forget to pack the sandwich I made you dear

And be back before the street lights turn on!

I don’t want you getting a cold

Have a nice time.

Shoot someone for me!

 

And so passes

Another successful day

I didn’t kill myself.

I got some work done.

I made bread

It turned out better than I’m used to

And I didn’t kill myself.

I snuggled the cats

I didn’t kill myself.

I drank some tea

I got ice cream with Hannah

Two flavors!

I thought about something stupid I said eight years ago

And I didn’t kill myself.

The weather was really lovely too, all day.

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30 comments

  • You should ALWAYS post the whole thing 😋

    Liked by 1 person

  • This is just my opinion, but I favor the notion a good poem is one that achieves a desired emotional impact using the least possible number of syllables. Just my two cents, Sarah.

    Liked by 1 person

    • You’re being so nice that I’m not sure whether you’re saying you liked this or not? It’s okay if you don’t… I’m not really sure if this counts as poetry myself.

      Like

      • Oh, you didn’t like it! Gotcha 😛
        I was curious what people would think. Normally I would just have posted the final paragraph as a solitary poem, and maybe the bit about what people do.

        Like

      • Overall it wasn’t to my liking, although it had it’s moments. You obviously know what you’re doing.

        Like

      • I just remembered. Reading the poem, I had an urge to re-work it a few times. Seemed unfinished to me.

        Liked by 1 person

        • Hey, just for fun, and only if it sounds fun to you too… would you re-work it? I’m curious how it would turn out when shaped by another mind.
          To me, the only way to save this poem is extreme amputation.

          Like

          • Please let me think about that. The idea excites, Sarah, but I’m damnably busy these days with my blog. Put up eleven posts yesterday, eight so far today, and I’m too obsessed to stop.

            Like

          • Pfft, that’s fine. Far be it from me to stand between you and your obsessive posting!

            Liked by 1 person

          • And so it goes

            And so it grows

            Another day

            Another flaw exposed.

            And everyone

            Is digging in their toes

            They don’t get

            That shit just overflows.

            Have a little piece of my soul

            I’m not using it anyway.

            Why does the devil want souls

            I think he’s in some kind of an arms race against god.

            Once he gets more souls than god

            he can begin the war?

            Well maybe it’s his pride

            maybe this is all about

            His stupid ego

            Like he wants a bigger business than god

            But surely his business is bigger

            Everyone says it is

            But fuck that

            What do they know

            I don’t want it

            I don’t want it.

            Take it back with you

            I don’t want it.

            Give it to your wife

            You crazy sick bastard

            Tell her it’s from me

            Tell her I said

            I think she’s pitiful

            And I pity her

            For being with you

            And drowning in a pool of lies

            People hurt

            People steal

            People love

            People heal

            People kill

            People die

            People always

            Wonder why

            People win

            People lose

            People live

            What they choose

            People give

            People take

            People bend

            People break.

            You are different.

            You can see.

            You are not like others be.

            You don’t struggle as they do.

            They don’t seem to have a clue.

            You are far removed and free

            You are pure and

            Okay you’re just a fucking sex addict, who are you kidding.

            Also if you want to join the revolution

            Don’t forget to pack the sandwich I made you dear

            And be back before the street lights turn on!

            I don’t want you getting a cold

            Have a nice time.

            Shoot someone for me!

            And so passes

            Another successful day

            I didn’t kill myself.

            he weather was really lovely too, all day.

            Like

          • WHOA! That’s so crazy! You killed all my babies! You did almost 100% the opposite of what I would have done.
            This is fascinating, thank you!

            Like

      • I’m striking while the iron is hot, you see. Soon or later, this sudden burst of creativity is bound to come crashing down. Then it’s back to drought again. So, “Get it while I can”, becomes my motto.

        Liked by 1 person

      • There! A few light edits. Nothing more than taking some lines out.

        From there, the poem could be published, in my opinion — or re-worked again.

        Liked by 1 person

        • This reminds me of a story told by Gore Vidal about Tennessee Williams:
          (Tennessee)… ‘gave me the story ‘Rubio y Morena’ to read. I didn’t like it. So fix it, he said… curious to see what I would do… So I reversed backward-running sentences, removed repetitions, eliminated half those adjectives and adverbs that he always insisted do their work in pairs. I was proud of the result. He was deeply irritated. “What you have done is remove my style, which is all I have.”’

          Liked by 1 person

    • I value your honesty! It’s a rare and wonderful thing, thank you.

      Like

  • Of course, if you want to be superficial about it — superficial but with some truth — there are no bad poems in a sense. Just poems that haven’t been finished.

    On the other hand, I’ve written poems that were so “unfinished”, they brought readers to their knees in tears. “That one needs and editor”, I would say afterwards.

    Liked by 1 person

  • There’s a lot of truth in that, isn’t there?

    Like

  • I read “Another Successful Day” as lyrics. I know lyrics are supposed to be just poems set to music, right? But I don’t think that’s always the case. I have written both (sort of) and there is a difference. I think this is lyrics to music that has yet to be written. But what do I know.
    Anyway…just my two…cents that is.

    Mona

    Liked by 1 person

    • I have yet to pin down what the essential differences are between lyrics and poetry. When you read lyrics as poetry, it can sound sappy and asinine. But when you sing those same lyrics they’re magic.
      Poetry which is beautiful on paper can make really complex and pretentious lyrics. Even when you read poetry at a poetry slam, you have to take the spoken element into account; poetry slam poetry should be tailored for that.
      Hm. I must ruminate upon this some more.

      Liked by 1 person

  • You’ve clearly thought about this once or twice and have said it so much better than I ever could!
    Mona

    Liked by 1 person

  • I liked it. It was like a story to me.

    Liked by 1 person

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