Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Death Is A Lighthouse
crippling hands barely gripping neuronic impulses failing the comprehension of my brain and grip. her voice echoing the airwaves fighting back my swerve of thought and emotion. my eyes following this hurried commotion of chaos only in the incoherent first lines of a jumbled elephant barrage of useless words flowing from the big bang of this bull shit. STOP ENCOURAGING THIS MADNESS! do you honestly believe freud? his three part ego, his three part self - we are how we are divided. it doesn't matter how i face in the elevator or whose hand my pocket is in because damn that socialist mantra where all men suffer equally. some deserve a little less suffering than Hitler or Gandhi. maybe they where the same men, at least that's how the bbblahblah States would call it. We are not any dream, we are every dream. Where visions are lost in seas of hope my death is a lighthouse. may my passing be a breath of relief because at least my unfulfilled dreams will be gone. And the world and all in it will no longer have to endure any longer the torment of unrealized hopes and wasted youth. my death is a lighthouse for the truly living.
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2 comments:
so the strength in this one comes from the phrase "death is a lighthouse" it is the only idea that is repeated, and it pulls the whole thing together from rambling mess to something pretty significant.
By using it as the title, it draws you into the first usage, and then to use it as a kind of refrain shows that it is the beacon in the poem. It is what is holding you together. That idea that your death will be a relief, and that relief is guiding you is really pretty brilliant.
I dig.
thank you, i get different pictures when i read my own work and this one is always changing
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