Steve’s Shitty Poetry Shack: Infractus Hilarus Mihi

A little while back, I announced to my Facebook fiends that I had written poetry. It had been a long time since I got all emo and decided to unleash my inner poet, and to be honest I didn’t want to show anyone. It’s not that I don’t have confidence in my writing skills (in fact, I probably have TOO much confidence), it’s just that I don’t usually want to write poetry. And when you all-of-sudden vomit poetry onto a page, wanting to show the stain of your efforts to the world is not usually the first thing on ye olde mind. I did cave to my ego and showed it to a few people and got some great feedback. The best came from my buddy Kier, a man responsible for getting me through my Darkest Days (the initial stages of the divorce). He described the poem as “sophomoric”, but also said it wasn’t bad. I’ll readily agree this piece isn’t all that awesome. But it’s me. If this Ego Engine I call a blog is supposed to be me exposing not just the nasty bits of my psyche, but every bit of me as a person, I feel I must force myself to post it. I also titled it in Latin because Latin is cool, man. And very art-house (or “art-faggy” if you grew up in the 80s). I don’t even know if I got the Latin right, as I went from memory and it’s been a loooong time since I had a Latin class.

Background on why I wrote this: I was feeling very sad– more sad than usual– and it just sort of spilled out.

Anyways, here you go. I welcome comments and stone throwing. I do wear a helmet at all times.

Infractus Hilaris Mihi

Come on darling,
Hold my hand.
I am going to take you
To the broken promised land.

Let’s walk down the path of shattered dreams,
And stroll down the blasted beaches of hope.
Let’s dance in the rain of ashes,
And kiss at the end of the rope.

We’ll throw back our heads and laugh,
As the world takes its bath.
We’ll wiggle like little worms,
As we shower in pointless wrath.

There is no place I’d rather be,
You here next to me.
But it seems you may be,
Just a little bit worried.

But hey this is Life,
This not a test.
There is no serenity in Death.
No certainty, no Rest.

Come on darling,
Don’t you cry.
Just breathe and breed.
Then we all shall die.

This is all that matters.
This is all I can offer.
A penny for your thoughts?
A penny for your coffers?

I’m unable to do any more.
Life is such a dried up whore.
It’s just me and you.
But now you say you’re through.

Please don’t go yet.
Don’t leave me here alone.
I could still have a chance.
My dice not yet thrown.

Come on darling,
Won’t you hold my hand?
Won’t you hold on to me?
Hold our fraying strands?

My stare belies my fate,
My acceptance and plight.
You have your Way,
I have my Night.

Come on darling,
Always think of me.
I am the broken land,
Of abandoned hopes and dreams.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: