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The Spark (Notes From a Tremolo Fence Sitter)

Contributed by Adam_Gaucher on Sunday, 11th August 2002 @ 09:14:26 PM in AEST
Topic: PoemsonBeauty

I find a place to park my a**.
I'm not enough to be noticed (one
hundred and forty pounds). What is
the purpose of today anyway? I've
only just stopped bitting my nails
for the second time in my life.

A ghost town exists in my surroundings.
Dead communities laughing and smoking
sipping coffee through their teeth. I fail
to speak when I move my lips. I can
only sing, which goes to waste in the
brains I try so hard to relate with. If we
were meant to see, we wouldn't have
been given eyes, or beautiful faces to
look at, which eliminate any perception
of wisdom within. Better yet, we
wouldn't have been given greed or the
quest for an orgasm. Excuse me while I
adjust my truss rod.

A sick fragrance is being. The
eternal "I am". Happiness is a
shovel digging your hole. How
deep are you willing to let this
thing drop you? The emotion is a
drug with great market value. It
controls everyone before they can
control it themselves. Very few
of us recover from its years of
debilitation. So few it seems
that even afterward it's not worth
the effort to overcome.

This is where I'm stuck I think.
There's so much energy I'd like to
give out, but there are no receivers. I
must constantly bring it, when deflected,
back into myself with love to keep sane.
Much in the same way one would sit in
the most uncomfortable seat in a place
just to be near someone dear; this is
true love harnessed, presented in sacrifice.

Copyright © Adam_Gaucher ... [ 2002-08-11 21:14:26]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Spark (Notes From a Tremolo Fence Sitter) (User Rating: 1 )
by Daniela_Maria_Violin on Sunday, 11th August 2002 @ 10:04:14 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Nice write Adam...I enjoyed it!

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