So I made not a very good recording, but it is late, and I couldn't figure out how to host it online in an easy way because my brain is fried. It you are DYING to hear it, e-mail me. :P
Here is the text of the poem:
Misery. Man, she’s become like a bad friend to me
Insidiously fighting any moment of hope stealing my free-
wheeling, eye-flashing, happier self, or even killing
me, inside to the out, smiling as she lied about having my best interests, willing
to “help” me, each assist a razor-sharp nick.
Classic frenemies. It’s sick
how I hate her but I still let her stick
her talons into my gut, seating them deep within.
She’s an itching, pinching undergarment of doubt
still that I fear to appear without.
Her biting remarks and undermining ways
are a yardstick to cling to, besides they don’t faze
me.
Better to have someone to give measure to the now and here
even if she brings super-sized pain and discontent and fear.
Better to take her crap, really.
It is the one thing I have that is offered freely.
Because Misery and I? We need each other.
With me to hold down and her to cling to
My life morphs from nothing to something to get through.
Final Assignment
16 years ago
I like the sound play that you put into this poem, the end rhymes, my favorite is happier self/killing me inside and out. It took me awhile to see where that rhyme was coming from and why that sounded so good together.
ReplyDeleteHave you ever read Neil Gaiman's Sandman series? His character Despair reminds me of your Misery... well, her weapons in your poem do. In his book Despair is a naked woman with fangs, and she has a hook that she uses to cut herself with. Her hook is how she snags people. It's super cool.
I like the idea of embodying emotions and human drives. I like the tosic friendship that you create between you and Misery, and would be interested in more, even.