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InShiningArmor — When, When
Published: 2008-12-11 21:20:08 +0000 UTC; Views: 2544; Favourites: 77; Downloads: 12
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It’s like when you ran over my cat last December and I said it was okay but it really wasn’t and you tighten your grip on my arm and I don’t care anymore because, fuck, it was just a cat right?Or when we went bowling and I pulled sevens and nines all night and you bowled strike after strike after golden strike and I swear you were immaculate and floating when you jumped victorious and I sat by the score sheet and all the powers of man and nature and beast and god were barely able to keep my head up and my eyes focused on the ocular feast, the glory of you.
And when we were walking home after the movies and the wind blew acerbic and jealous and stricken blind, groping to finger flesh within our coats and scarves and boots like the denizens of Sodom and Gomorrah and we are as Lot’s daughters left like the lamb for the spiritual slaughter but the angels come in the form of your father in the family minivan offering us a ride and I desperately want to say yes but you say we’re fine so he drives away and I watch him leave and turn to salt but you just grab at my gray granulated hands and drag me along behind you.
Or when we got our finals back from that author seminar you know I tried so hard in and you got an A- and I got a D and my head hit the desk like a hollow bone stamp and you leveled your eyes with mine and told me it just stands for “Damn, you’re cute” and we laced our fingers like corsets or thigh-high boots or nineteenth century shirt sleeves and everything was comfortable and clean until you hit my fucking cat and this is all out of order but I think I just wanted to say I would be nothing if not for you so thanks I guess.
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Comments: 64
I've had this saved in my bookmarks for a while as something to come back to and reflect on. And no matter how many times I open it up thinking "hmm what was this again?" and read it aloud to myself, I exit the tab thinking to myself, "what else is there to say".
Except that, I guess. I wish I could say that I'm speechless, but apparently I am not.
Pretty awesome.
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best comment ever. thank you so much :]
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stream of consciousness is the best ^^ i really like this piece, can't say why but i just do.
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Your run-on sentences are absolutely beautiful. XO And I like how you linked the first and last ideas together. The running-over-your-cat thing.
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its pretty enough to be considered poetry
but raw enough to give it impact.
i imagine a teenage boy venting to a poor soul
who was considerate enough to ask what was wrong haha
I loveee this.
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This reminded me of Junior, by Macaulay Culkin, except that it was better-written and I didn't giggle. My favourite part was how I didn't relate to it at all, because I hate when writers try and drag you into their shit and you feel like, if this hadn't happened to me would I really give a fuck?
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i think that last part was a... compliment? i hope so.
and i was never a big fan of macaulay culkin, so i very much approve of you thinking i write better than him. silly actors should stay silly actors! not silly writers!
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It was a compliment, in the most bizarre of ways of course.
I think Macaulay Culkin's writing a book was flaunting the laws that separate the attractive (actors) and unattractive (writers), but I read it anyway. Several times. So did all of my friends. We destroyed it writing notes to one another between the lines. It's what he deserved I'm sure.
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It took me three tries to read this start to finish because I was going too fast and I flew off the track like a poorly driven slot car.
The whole time I was all "breathe man, breathe!"
But you didn't and I think it was more powerful that way.
That didn't make any sense, but what I meant to say is:
This struck me.
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it made sense, dont worry :] and thank you.
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this is genius. love it. i love the ranting. i love the meaning behind the ranting. its great!
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i feel as though i've read this page in life before.
that grip on the arm didn't last for more than that moment though.
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I love this a lot, in an unexpected sort of way. Though I hope no cats were sacrificed in the making.
(and I wish you and :devqueenrrosie: wouldn't clash 
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thank you.
and i dont know what she wants from me other than to make me painfully aware that im a generic, middle-of-the-road writer. fuck it.
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aww I'm sure that's not it at all. honestly it's queenhrosie's fanciful way of commenting, I don't think she's trying to insult your work at all. and besides, your writing is definitely not generic, middle-of-the-road so don't feel that way!
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i dont take criticism well. it will probably be what kills me some day.
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cammmmmyyy.
it's okay.
people have differing opinions, but the important part is that i still love you.
(important in my mind, but not anyone else's).
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it should be important in everyone's, love.
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OK
I will say I don't like the inclusion of high-school type things or school type things or whatever. For some reason it makes me turn away, but this is, perhaps just a preference from a crazy woman.
*$*
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im not sure i understand what you mean.
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I don't know, makes me think you are writing sad highschool/college/I don't like school diaries to yourself. This is a preference though, like Bukowski going on and on about actually living before being able to write. Don't get me wrong, I went to college and I've done all that school, but I think that poetry belongs within life, down by the whorehouses and prisons.
Again, just a preference, because of my idea of what writing is.
But I did like your poemmmmm.
*$*
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ive never been to prison, and i dont think there are any whorehouses around here, so im not sure if ill ever be able to truly satisfy you. but thats fine with me.
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Oh, I just meant, to write matter of fact about the terrible things. You know, shit happens. Shit happens so you shoot someone about it.
I am being so facetious.
Perhaps it is this - a love poem is not just about love and can't just be about love. Neruda already did that and I think (though I love him and named my abused betta fish after him) that you need to take things in a more universal way. With love there is always not-love. And alcoholism. And sex offenders.
Extremes.
I don't know. It just seems like everyone is writing the same thing over and over and over lately. Or is it just me?
*%*
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maybe youre expecting too much. im not very educated on literary history; i havent even read Walden Pond for god's sake. so maybe im just one among the masses of the uncultured with simpler feelings on a public domain.
or maybe its just you. does it really matter?
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Not really. And fuck Walden Pond. I am not historically accurate most of the time. Is anyone.
I just cut up a copy of Lady Chatterley's lover to further my point.
This is how I feel about public domain, however, because I have run into some trouble with this and maybe it's why I am such a hard ass -
If you publish (lit mags, books, whatever) - they will find ALL your work. Meaning, if you put it up as a complete piece, it should be a completely accurate representation of your writing. Meaning, something you are proud of in the literary sense (not just like ... I felt like writing this because it felt good to get it out, or I felt really emotional today or whatever).
Though of course, that depends on if you are letting your writing out in the first place, I guess.
*$*
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i dont know who lady chatterley is but thank you for further rubbing my face in the fact that i dont know anything about anything.
i dont need anything i write to be deconstructed or analyzed. im sure you feel like youre giving me constructive criticism but youre just making me feel stupid and shitty.
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What!
I am sorry.
Hm, I just drank too much coffee.
I just was telling someone else that same thing the other day and they were not offended so I must be having a night in which I make no sense.
Ahhhhh.
*!*
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I always loved the Sodom story and I usually just got mad at OT stories because everyone was being stupid, but that story I like.
In conclusion, this poem makes me giggle and go - OH HOW VERY NIKKI GIOVANNI OF YOU.
Except that I really didn't do that. I painted a picture of a screaming lady instead.
*$*
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D = Damn, you're cute.
I'll remember that one for a long time. <
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This makes me smile.
You and Estallidos writings inspire me and make me feel like..I don't know..
It's just makes me feel like I'm not alone, like I'm not the only one who has problems, even if most of your stories and such are a bit more light-hearted.
Ugh. I just spilled my guts all over the floor.
Sorry.
:/
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i love bibical references. it's the preacher's daughter in me i guess.
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I like the circular flow of this. It makes it feel very complete.
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thank you :] it was completely unintentional; a "happy mistake" if you will.
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Well it worked out excellently.
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i love how raw this is. it's not perfect, but that's what makes it so...perfect. ya know?
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the best feelings are generally the raw ones.
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I like it.
You have a strange style, but it works.
It sounds breathless and pure and it's the type of thing I wish I could say.
Mainly because my thoughts make sense to me, but the words never form themselves in the right way, they over themselves and form a big muddy pile of literary nonsense, and I'm left making little sense to anyone.
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ive said it before, but practice makes practice makes practice makes perfect.
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that could be true, I have yet to disclaim it.
Though I have yet to claim it true, also.
We shall see.
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