#0 POEMS (more.machine.than.man)

MORE.MACHINE.THAN.MAN

(touch)
i go to touch you
but i feel your body slip away
like there's someone else you're thinking of
like there's someone else you wish i was

Poetry does not come from the heart.  Your heart is a small, wet, papery organ that pumps rusty liquid through your fragile body because of electronic signals that travel between it and your brain.  (Which, coincidentally, has less of a capacity for poetry than your heart.)

Poetry comes from an universal mind, which interacts with us peripherally through our soul.  This is all well said, but the truth remains that most (hell, if not all), of us butcher the language of art.  Or perhaps, the art of language..?

There is a metaphor somewhere, a long and winding one, one that ends rather violently.  If we were to continue this metaphor to the end we would say that we put a bullet through the temple of temple of the universal mind.

Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder.

If you have read this far, you might as well continue, but I warn you, most of my poems suck.  If I were you, I'd give up now, as a matter of self-preservation.

I've warned you.

but still hope you enjoy,
Captain Tootsie J. Bananamanimal