The road higher.
If you know you're going to die
You might as well be dead.
If you know the end of the road is hurtling towards
you, might as well
pull over now, or so you say
I say different.
But inevitability comes like a furious train
steaming, eyes slits, unfeeling
What am I but soft flesh, wet insides
claiming a hard exterior?
What am I to stand in front of a train?
And who gives a damn, that there were
or would have been
another season, perhaps a lifetime within it
Of the same lifetimes past
Of the joys, embraces, the happy chaos
Getting hopelessly lost in ourselves
The mountain roads we took, not knowing where
they ended, but trusting
Travelling higher, and higher, well knowing
There would come a peak, and afterwards the descent
What bitter fools we are
To not have pulled over then.
But I say different
You might as well be dead.
If you know the end of the road is hurtling towards
you, might as well
pull over now, or so you say
I say different.
But inevitability comes like a furious train
steaming, eyes slits, unfeeling
What am I but soft flesh, wet insides
claiming a hard exterior?
What am I to stand in front of a train?
And who gives a damn, that there were
or would have been
another season, perhaps a lifetime within it
Of the same lifetimes past
Of the joys, embraces, the happy chaos
Getting hopelessly lost in ourselves
The mountain roads we took, not knowing where
they ended, but trusting
Travelling higher, and higher, well knowing
There would come a peak, and afterwards the descent
What bitter fools we are
To not have pulled over then.
But I say different
posted by Stobux | 9:54 PM
2 Comments:
This poem is about my girlfriend. Yeah, yeah, inevitably every poet writes about love. I thought I'd get it out of the way in the beginning. I'd rather not elaborate, I think the poem does a good job and I've just provided you with enough context to figure it out for yourselves. One thing I will say is, usually I'd write a song or whatever. This time I was trying more of that free verse stuff... er I wouldn't say modernism, but just not as standard. I was running with a metaphor that felt very pertinent to me at the time, it just kind of poured out. I'm a big fan of being verbose and bombastic. Call me a sap or what have you, I really enjoy reading this poem. Kiyaaa bitches.
Another thing I'd like to add about this poem, is that if you just read it, I don't think you'd have that concrete of an idea that it's "just about a girl". It can be seen to be about hope, or motivation, or progression in life overall. So I'd prefer this poem not be discredited because of its unoriginal inspiration. I really like this poem. Eventually I'm goin to delete all the poems I don't like off this, I've already started.
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