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Tell Me That I'm Crazy...

Spread out the clean, white paper
brush away the specks of dust
fiddle with the latches to my head
maybe I'll get it right this time

So much crap in here...
The echo bounces from the bottom
Don't know if I'll recognize it
What the hell are you looking for?

I don't know, you started this hunt
Look outside and wonder
feeling like it's anywhere
maybe in the sky

What are you asking? says the voice of reason
I don't know, I'm not sure
A suitcase packed with emotions
where are you going?

I guess that is the question
but where is the answer?
Sweet Child of Mine playing
asking where do we go now?

Saxaphone sweet and blowing softly
riffs and twanging guitar
Buddy Guy and mournful questions
can't tell me nothing, he's just wondering why

Tell me that I'm crazy
talk to me and play sweet music
Play the blues for me
and I'll just sit here and cry...

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

have to be
what u wanna beeee
geee

my always friend. Sometimes I get the feeling that you know me better than most. ~ Geez.
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Writing purely for oneself, is the ultimate in defensive posture.

author comment

I hv read the HUMAN MIND
through poetry ages since
and
shall till ages hence

till my eye lives
u know me 22222222222
Geeeeez...............................

Thanks... ~ Geez.
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Writing purely for oneself, is the ultimate in defensive posture.

author comment

Hello Geezer,
(I really like it when you gift us with your free verse.) In addition to poetry, music opens up the most vulnerable part of us, at least it does to me. At first read, it seemed as if you were speaking to your muse, but I'm wondering if you are speaking to your most authentic self. This hits home - Guns N' Roses either gets me moving, or helps me work through "stuff." I've read "where do we go now" was simply an accidental riff not knowing how to end the song. But it has taken on such cool meaning as used in your poem. I like "a suitcase packed with emotion." I think your title seems appropriate (even though I don't think you are crazy). Lots of different feelings here. To end with the blues is very reflective and solitary. I will come back and read again.
Thank you,
L

on the second try! My muse is fine, we have just been having a difference of opinion. I have been working through some very emotional stuff lately and the blues are something that seems to help put things in perspective. You know how sometimes; you have a train of thought, where one thought seems to lead to something that you wouldn't think is related? That's the way this poem came about. I wasn't working on anything, just listening to a blues album called "Best Electric Guitar Blues Music of All Time" and "Sweet Child of Mine" came up. I've tried to find the guitarist's name, but no soap. Anyway, the suitcase packed with emotion line, did come about from the line "Where do we go now?" Sometimes, I think that I will go crazy with 'Truth', or because of it. If I've helped anyone feel the genuine turmoil of emotion, the essence of what drives a person to write, sing or play "The Blues", then I think that I have done what I've set out to do here; because it is what I am feeling. You are right about music opening up the most vulnerable parts of us. I truly believe that be it whatever emotion, this is why we make music and write poetry. Thank you for your generous praise and insight. ~ Geez.
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Writing purely for oneself, is the ultimate in defensive posture.

author comment

Self indulgence? Sometimes you need to shake it up a bit, but the shaker's outa pepper?

Thomas

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...so like my lost dreams...the flood

explained to Lavender, I have been working through some very emotional stuff lately. [The loss of my mother is one thing].
She was 95 years old, and ready. But now, I feel like one of the only people that has really understood me has gone, and I don't want to burden the only other person that shows signs of being capable. [She has enough on her own plate]. Out of pepper? I don't think so. I guess it's just feeling sorry for myself. We are allowed to do that now and then. Thanks for the read and comments. ~ Geez.
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Writing purely for oneself, is the ultimate in defensive posture.

author comment

..why would someone call you crazy? Seems like a normal reaction to a challenging time. Glad to know you're okay.

Thomas

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...so like my lost dreams...the flood

I guess I haven't been myself for a little bit and I may have treated some people with indifference or even been surly.
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Writing purely for oneself, is the ultimate in defensive posture.

author comment

...I always say....Lovedly and I are having a dang party on one of his pages.

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...so like my lost dreams...the flood

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