Friday, November 28, 2014

I Don't Feel Right

I don't know if I was born ambivalent
or became that way when my brain
broke in the street or my daddy
beat feet or, or, or . . .

but, I don't feel right anymore.

Joy might be a boy
dark haired and dumb
who doesn't call.
Grief tastes
like the novels
I haven't read.
I have all these signs,
sounds, and symbols
in my head;
but what are they for?

I don't feel right anymore.

My take on Corey's prompt at Real Toads

10 comments:

Sylvia K said...

Ah, been there, done that!!

Fireblossom said...

Come and hang with us on the left, then, babe!

Marian said...

beat feet... argh.

Hannah said...

Your last five lines resonate with me, MZ...love the rhytmn in this.

Enigma said...

"Grief tastes
like the novels
I haven't read." - My favourite line.

I think, for me, feeling 'right' is not as important as feeling 'okay'. Loved this poem.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This poem is up there with some of the best search for identity poems I have read. Very post-modern and, I think, a major contribution to expression of self. It is poetry like this which should be making waves in literary circles... if poetry had not somehow become the province of academics up on snob hill.

Björn Rudberg said...

Grief like unread novels What a wonderful simile..

Sherry Blue Sky said...

LOL, Shay, love your comment! I know that feeling of things not being quite right, MZ. I am living it now....I hear you, kiddo. Let's shake it all up in 2015, goddamit.

Herotomost said...

I like that maybe you and Sherry may shake it up in 2015 Dammit!!!!! I don't think poetry wise you have ever stopped shaking it up. This is brave and exactly what I had in mind. Only we can set it right I guess, after everyone else has already drawn on our blank page. Thanks MZ you rock!!!!

C.C. said...

This is so damn good it defies comment!