Friday, June 29, 2007


I built myself a castle out of blocks,
I made each column straight and corner tight,
And brightly colored letters on the sides
Spelled out words like normal, safe, and right.

I sat and read the writing on my walls,
And slept and dreamt that it was real,
That all my words had meaning
And that all my walls were steel.

Really, angsty existential poetry almost writes itself...all you need is a boring class, a malleable metaphor, and a complete shamelessness regarding cliches. Go on, try it.... it's fun....


Miri said...

I like it. Simple and effective.

e-kvetcher said...

>>Really, angsty existential poetry almost writes itself..



BECAUSE I couldn't write a poem,
It kindly wrote itself;

Apologies to Ms. Dickinson.afaibis2

Mike said...

Tobie that sucked even for angsty poetry.

e-kvetcher said...

I don't know, I kind of liked it. And I don't see it being very angsty, for better or for worse...

Tobie said...

Mike, you're an annoying little philistine. The poem isn't great, but it's so very much better than so very much of the angsty poetry out there, and for that matter, it's hardly angsty at all, just disillusioned intellectual sort of trash.