All four poems are satire. Some are less obvious than others. I personally think "i love you" and Peas are two of the top poems I've ever written. I spent hours tweaking the style, the flow, the word choice, and the meanings of both of them. Peas is a bit more serious, while "i love you" is just straight out satire. Enjoy, I hope. As always, honest feedback is appreciated. If you hate them, explain why, I'd be more than glad to explain any of the poems, or why I chose to do certain things within them.
"i love you"
today i am going out and buying you a dozen
of those flowers that you love.
in the prettiest
color that you love.
and after we meet
once again
for the first time
i'm going to take you out to your favorite restaurant,
whatever it may be.
and as we eat, we can talk about
things,
as I stare into your beautiful
and lovely
eyes.
and as the night slowly ticks away
i will love you, again and again
and whisper in your ear
"i love you"
whatever your name may be.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Spinning Cogs of Dissonance
I think that car just winked at me.
A possible look into the life of a machine.
Oh la la! How it growls and moans!
Turning the cogs of inefficient progress...
Sorry pal this is a no smoking zone,
Take that black nature somewhere else.
Unless you count on driving, then be my guest...
In fact, let me light that for you
Puff puff, going down the highway!
Chug chug, punching your lungs with a grin!
Why doesn't anybody listen to this ruckus?
Burn their bodies, lock them in the white room!
The padded walls make for great companions-
Or so I've heard.
Twenty more miles to the promise land,
Better stop to refuel
And get some snacks while you're at it,
And some gum,
And some soda,
And some scratch tickets...
Hell, buy the whole store while you're at it!
Hey, don't look at me that way, just get in the car
And drive.
Also, thank you for the birthday card, it meant a lot to me.
Here's lookin' at you kid.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Peas
The two green peas were meant to be.
Togetherness insured by the harness of a pod.
Flesh, softer than a whisper, concrete as a promise
The peas sit, and wait for what seems to be a lifetime.
Absorbing the energies necessary to sustain-
Just enough
for them to get by.
Eventually they
fall,
and as the pod collapses in the warm unstable heat,
the peas stare at each other for-
ever.
The air is dry.
Time is on hiatus,
and as the pod sloths it's way to nothing,
the peas within are closer than ever.
Wrinkled and weary.
Wrinkled and weary.
Wrinkled and weary.
Like a closing fist, the pod backs up it's statement,
and nothing can stop it now.
Not even the
wrinkled and weary
peas
can ignore their impending judgement.
Until they once again become one with
life
and sprout new
...
as strong as their own.
If only vegetables could
love.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Broken Metaphors
A tragic event can only be defined tragedy
If the wallets of your publishers are willing
Enough to spread the "good word" of loss
Into every newsstand that a joe passes by
But I must laugh at your broken metaphors
Of destitution and lustful lives thrown aside
Because not once has Mr. Frost invited me
To the woods on a dark and snowy evening
And Mr. Eliot's close friend, J. Alfred Prufrock
Has bored me with his know-nothing style
Of baldness and shallow insights of my own
Fragile egotistical lifestyle that I indulge in
And even though I've never been to prison
Mr. Hikmet would publish his letters of love
From deep within his cell, as if his one way
Road is unable to fork off into lush nothing
I call it unfortunate that I do not hunger for
Anything except my own sense of a home
Which when looking at Mr. Larkin seems
Almost ignorant and rude to say the least
I am fed well with my hecto-pronged forks
That dig deep into the oven-roasted meal
That I share with Ms. Plath, as we discuss
The father-topics of life and fair mentality
For when the day arrives that I exchange
The purple pills for the slender silver axe
I will hold my sides with blood and laughter
As the poetic meaning of it all disappears
"i love you"
today i am going out and buying you a dozen
of those flowers that you love.
in the prettiest
color that you love.
and after we meet
once again
for the first time
i'm going to take you out to your favorite restaurant,
whatever it may be.
and as we eat, we can talk about
things,
as I stare into your beautiful
and lovely
eyes.
and as the night slowly ticks away
i will love you, again and again
and whisper in your ear
"i love you"
whatever your name may be.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Spinning Cogs of Dissonance
I think that car just winked at me.
A possible look into the life of a machine.
Oh la la! How it growls and moans!
Turning the cogs of inefficient progress...
Sorry pal this is a no smoking zone,
Take that black nature somewhere else.
Unless you count on driving, then be my guest...
In fact, let me light that for you
Puff puff, going down the highway!
Chug chug, punching your lungs with a grin!
Why doesn't anybody listen to this ruckus?
Burn their bodies, lock them in the white room!
The padded walls make for great companions-
Or so I've heard.
Twenty more miles to the promise land,
Better stop to refuel
And get some snacks while you're at it,
And some gum,
And some soda,
And some scratch tickets...
Hell, buy the whole store while you're at it!
Hey, don't look at me that way, just get in the car
And drive.
Also, thank you for the birthday card, it meant a lot to me.
Here's lookin' at you kid.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Peas
The two green peas were meant to be.
Togetherness insured by the harness of a pod.
Flesh, softer than a whisper, concrete as a promise
The peas sit, and wait for what seems to be a lifetime.
Absorbing the energies necessary to sustain-
Just enough
for them to get by.
Eventually they
fall,
and as the pod collapses in the warm unstable heat,
the peas stare at each other for-
ever.
The air is dry.
Time is on hiatus,
and as the pod sloths it's way to nothing,
the peas within are closer than ever.
Wrinkled and weary.
Wrinkled and weary.
Wrinkled and weary.
Like a closing fist, the pod backs up it's statement,
and nothing can stop it now.
Not even the
wrinkled and weary
peas
can ignore their impending judgement.
Until they once again become one with
life
and sprout new
...
as strong as their own.
If only vegetables could
love.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Broken Metaphors
A tragic event can only be defined tragedy
If the wallets of your publishers are willing
Enough to spread the "good word" of loss
Into every newsstand that a joe passes by
But I must laugh at your broken metaphors
Of destitution and lustful lives thrown aside
Because not once has Mr. Frost invited me
To the woods on a dark and snowy evening
And Mr. Eliot's close friend, J. Alfred Prufrock
Has bored me with his know-nothing style
Of baldness and shallow insights of my own
Fragile egotistical lifestyle that I indulge in
And even though I've never been to prison
Mr. Hikmet would publish his letters of love
From deep within his cell, as if his one way
Road is unable to fork off into lush nothing
I call it unfortunate that I do not hunger for
Anything except my own sense of a home
Which when looking at Mr. Larkin seems
Almost ignorant and rude to say the least
I am fed well with my hecto-pronged forks
That dig deep into the oven-roasted meal
That I share with Ms. Plath, as we discuss
The father-topics of life and fair mentality
For when the day arrives that I exchange
The purple pills for the slender silver axe
I will hold my sides with blood and laughter
As the poetic meaning of it all disappears
Think while it's still legal.