Litkicks Message Board Archive

My Point Is..

Posted to Action Poetry




I don't want to write about love anymore
locking myself away with words of meloncholy
and pointless ballads of longing
creating a fictional world
of heartfelt emotion

The words give meaning
to the meaningless
and love
to the loveless
but there is no love
in the truth
just lust
translated
in an attempt to justify
lackluster experiences

From now on
I will write about things
motionless, feelingless objects
and maybe even lust
which boils up and spills over
leaving me in a morning mess
every now and then
but love is a subject
I know nothing about
A rumor I've heard in passing
a mystery I've yet to solve

I've heard time and again
that there is no such thing as love
only chemicals and hormones
mixed together in a dance of hot energy
and lost time
And there is only so much time
in one life

Why waste it writing
love poems?