Poetry Day, Word?

Goooood morning, Vietnam!!!!!!!

How is everyone in blog-land-osphere-central?  Good I hope.  I am feeling emotionally dried up and mentally strained today.  But I wanted to throw up another blog here before the previous one got too stagnant.  The previous blog was a real long one, and when combined with the blog before it, that two-part expedition into my memory really took it out of me.

I was thrilled to get as many comments as I did on both of the them, and I would like to quickly address some of the comments that came up for the second half of cult-joining adventure blog.

Briefly...

Jewels: You are going to hell, but not for laughing at my blog.  You have killed three times too many.

Oilfield: You had me at "you had."

Travis: I plan on owning a Kirby some day.  The salesmen suck, but the vacuums really suck.

Candice and Chanel: You two are hilarious.

Geets: I have thought about weighing in on the revolutionary times... do you think that it is subject matter that my readers would appreciate?

ResCogitans: Postulating about that girl's possible suicide feels oh so evil... glad you are here.

Brahm: I didn't make you have to pee.  That was God punishing you for various transgressions.  You know what you did.  Now return the bodies to the morgue and maybe your luck will change.

Chaz: You have way better stories than me.  Coffee can.

Okay, enough of that.  Today is poetry day, which is historically the day no one comments because my poetry is akin to the work of a third grade girl high on rubber cement fumes.

This hypothetical girl can, presumably, get more comments on her poetry in the blogosphere than I can.  Also: was it wrong of me to draw a third grade huffer?

But maybe it's just that I haven't been completely inviting as far as poetry comments go.  So please, feel free to comment.  Whether you think it's idiotic or tremendous.

A Lonely Morning

----------------------

I Drowned in Green

Staring at the sea,

Atlantic shore washes,

wave by wave, away

from under my feet.

Beneath the pier,

I am small.

Before the water,

I am invisible.

Sand, warm between 

toes and skin,

melts away

I get smaller.

Smaller.

Smaller.

Dark juts out from me,

lurches across the horizon

consuming all, off

into space.

Darkness, and a gull,

her cry in the distance,

foreign wave sound.

And I almost...

almost...

disappear.

If not for remembering you.

I've seen seas of green wider than this.

I've been drowned before.

This Atlantic won't do it.

I will disappear again,

But only into your eyes.

Green seas...

           Sweet oblivion....

----------------------

Let Me Off Here

----------------------

Remember?

Remember innocent summer nights?

Right inside some nocturnal

rowdy interval, seeking not

righteousness, instead staying naked?

Recall insane stamina? Never

really incapacitated, 'stead nimble,

riled indefinitely, sturdy, new?

Radical insight, so nigh?

Rolling in sod? Nascently

riding into sweet nothing?

Remember innocent summer nights?

Recollecting is supreme...

                                         ....no?

----------------------

In Shadows of Gods

"New order conspiracy," is one claim,

"fellatio beneath this desk," another.

In this wonderland of free thought,

where incredible trees

and ivory towers abound,

in time, in time...

in time, here, there will be an

un-doing

an up-downing

an us...

dying.

Sustain this, if you dare, 

the illusion of freedom,

the raw leading edge of phony.

But you will anger the stacks

of Gods and men

surrounding you, behind you.

Your slurring, hissing, spitting

can turn only a few

into pulp and nothing, but

I've predicted a new nativity.

It's parchment and knowing, 

in part,

and not much else,

that will stand on your breast.

Three kings will come.

Tribute to the New Neural God.

Your corpse a manger, beneath white pillars.

----------------------

Ok.  Which one did you guys like best?  Does anyone out there read poetry?  Let me know, I'm in need of feedback, positive or otherwise.

Love.