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.
Fresh Hell 
You should ALWAYS post the whole thing 😋
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You think?
Sometimes it really is a question of quality control… depending on the response I get here, I might start posting more like this.
I appreciate your input!
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I always say, post first, edit later haha 😉
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For good or ill, I’m definitely guilty of that!
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Overall it wasn’t to my liking, although it had it’s moments. You obviously know what you’re doing.
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I just remembered. Reading the poem, I had an urge to re-work it a few times. Seemed unfinished to me.
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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.
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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.
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Pfft, that’s fine. Far be it from me to stand between you and your obsessive posting!
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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.
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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!
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Not bad, unfinished.
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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.
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Maybe you should lay some posts aside to prepare for the drought!
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Actually, my plan is to repost old ones from years back — along with a note they are reposts, of course. But they’ll be fresh again to my readers by now.
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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.
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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.”’
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I value your honesty! It’s a rare and wonderful thing, thank you.
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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.
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Lol! We can all take comfort in the fact that none of our poetry is as bad as Vogon poetry. (Do you know Douglas Adams?)
http://hitchhikers.wikia.com/wiki/Vogon_poetry
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I have always meant to read Adams, but never have. Vogon poetry seems very much like an acquired taste — acquired just before death.
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There’s a lot of truth in that, isn’t there?
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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
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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.
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You’ve clearly thought about this once or twice and have said it so much better than I ever could!
Mona
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I liked it. It was like a story to me.
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I felt like they all connected together too, and didn’t really want to cut it up because it linked (in my opinion)
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