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Squaw (revised and lenghtened) Time does not pass as much as it fades As I age I lose control more and more Death’s eyes I capture them peeking from slightly beyond the yellow neon glow of the all night liquor store and they focus more intently each time Spread her legs Maybe I’ll seduce death welcome and charm her I want to make love to miss Death she wants to be fucked though That she wants it so bad scares me to unerection Why am I most alive surrounded by whores, thieves, and druggies Rats Pigeons & Cockroaches how come I’ve never seen a baby pigeon? have you? darkness that is where my journey leads me and visions spawn my experience The most isolated depths of human souls Greet Me I walk amongst demons unseen even welcomed by some as family I am seen as one of their own I find a strange comfort in this Though danger lurks and evil stalks me the truths evil can reveal are an intense orgasm the wisdom of which can be gained knowledge by treading treading into places most fear going don’t go don’t gggoooo something unremembered pleads passionately I now understand what the natives mean by a vision quest you may come to a point where you are more lost in your own life and are afraid you are losing yourself or have forgotten who you are When you come to the point The point where you are on the brink this is the time you are ready to seek your vision I suppose this should be done secluded in nature like the ancients did but----substitute Urban Wasteland and evil The vision and the process of attaining it chooses you---no elder to guide and monitor you The 1000th flicker of the lighter under the blanket at night’s last darkness Scanning false sounds EXHALE The memory of my life distant Far from myself The sacrifice of going into the underworld you know the sad ending to come but march forward anyway In the realm of Good this would be courageous-----heroic here-----it is nothing except what you think of it because you are Alone The beautiful young girl wanders wanders in the forest a grassy patch finds her envelopes her horizontal body innocent eyes to sky delicate fingers tease virgin vagina Now……stagger on aimlessly breathing heavy still aroused Soft Skin SLICED …..the real cause of her pain not pleasure false pleasure Deceived and alone the evil has made her hate what truly is beautiful HERSELF The Demons prey upon the weak or innocent This tragedy hurts a weathered soul more than witnessing a thousand evils the essence of good consumed and controlled by the darkness without even knowing it she blames herself Don’t cry Baby Girl Death will provide rememberance of truth and other things When I feel my life spinning further out of control the spin becoming more and more my reality no one can slow it faster wondering who, if anyone, has ever felt this not knowing the outcome One of two things will happen Death or the unexpected breaking through finding yourself spit out back into life the good life the good red road appears again You sit there bewildered you recognize yourself you look at your hands naked and cold ecstatic at being free but a suicidal pain lingers just want a woman to talk to and hold to listen Like a newborn child with no mother no warm nipple to suckle no soft words that’s the feeling Lacking in cents I walk down an anonymous Chicago street All powerful-----strength Almost there Almost complete I’m a legend somehow-----sense it-----the Crows squaw to me pay their respects Old friends----spirit guides they give warning Their ancient eye will see into your most primal recesses Sometimes they appear just to bear witness to your spirit----just before you enter on an unknown road They want to measure what’s inside you What brings you upon the brink of such a dangerous journey Dangerous Unknown You must travel alone R U afraid R U scared of the journey or the certain prospect of death Squaw Squaw Clench the Tomahawk squaw and capture it’s strength ATTACK DEATH SQUAW SQUAW You only get one journey squaw I want squaw a good death squaw I attack squaw sprinting to her squaw squaw The Crows watch closely The fear of falling back into the dark dream isn’t there because the snake spirit within me has shed that skin Now, I keep that seductive skin framed in the room of memories behind oak door and bolt It tells a story Not a happy story More like a powerful piece of music that brings tears The power is in its experience Not in its false promise to be something else I can cry now its over Seeing the leaves change the little asian girl jumping up and down (I want to jump 2) the death of Super Man they all bring tears I just wish I had somebody to cry with I have no one |
This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2004-10-22 18:28:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.96078
This is definitely a powerful poem full of great images, it lets the brain just take off with some suggested at themes as well as having a center theme as well, and the thought of seducing death provokes me into imaginative fancy, thanks for the good read.