Tuesday, September 23, 2008

to L.A.

Trapped inside a sleepless dream
Nothing ever what it seems
Clocks ticking, yet still no time
Hoping is the only crime
How long have I been in here?
Emptiness within a tear
Crying out without a sound
My true self just can’t be found
Don’t they see that I’m not there?
Can’t see me with a fixed stare
Lost my love inside of you
There was nothing I could do
Great L.A. redeem my soul!
Feed me smog until I’m whole
Pour your concrete in my heart
So we’ll never be apart
Wake me from this awful dream
You alone know where I’ve been

10 comments:

Black Crow said...

for me this poem is about solace in understanding, even if its only coming from the Earth.

Lorigga said...

solace in understanding...being understood, understanding others, understanding in that great big general sense of the word, like the material?

The first part of this poem evokes a sense of helplessness. But I guess that's where LA comes in, it comforts you with its smog and concrete. I guess in many ways those chemical interactions don't seem to convey much of a nurturing perspective...

Just wondering more about the imagery.

Cyrusse said...

My first reaction is that this reminds me of that one chili peppers song, you know "my only friend is the city I live in," can't remember what it's called. I'm not really coming up with much else right now, but I'll give it some more attention when my brain will cooperate with me.

defmoose said...

under the bridge

Black Crow said...

Ya, under the bridge is my favorite Peppers song, and I used to use a lot of dope while listening to it, my first L.A. poem was inspired by it, because under the bridge is about L.A., and so here we are.

As for your comment Lorigga. Who says there was any comfort? Who says this poem is supposed to have any hope, or anything positive at all. Solace doesnt mean hope, peace, or love. I found solace in Heroin for months, but it wasnt a good thing. Thus the images are not supposed to be positive, or nurturing, they were choosen to be ugly, harsh, nasty, because the voice of this poem, not me persay, but the voice of this poem, is fucking mad! He is seeking to escape a dream with the harsh realities of the city. Perhaps the harshness of smog and concrete can dispel his lack of a sense of reality, through the city, he can become real, the images are ugly, but their physical, something he hang on to. If nothing else, this voice has the city to remind him that there are things bigger than his nightmare, because the people of that city have vanished.

In addition, thats just one read of the poem. I wrote it with a negative spirit in mind, not one of hope, or comfort, there is no comfort. I think thats just your desire for me to be happy, or whole, when in actuality, Im so far from that. But, it could be positive, it could be nurturing, and thats why I posted it. Because afterwards I saw a twinge of love in my description of the city. One mans trash is anothers treasure. J and I very often reflected upon how so many people dont like the image of concrete or asphalt, but to us it was home, so we loved it. We spent so much time in L.A., literally lying on concrete, and this was before we ever used dope, so we grew to love that concrete. Its not an ugly image to me, just to others, and thats why I love it, theres a paradox in there, how could be concrete be something one wants in his heart? yet it is! I once did find comfort in concrete. So cold, so hard, so real, back in junior high it reminded me of myself. Throughout my life Ive had issues with reality, or the nature of "truth" and to me concrete is just as real and true as a field, or dirt, its man made, but its a part of my "natural" surrounding since I was a babe in diapers, so I love it, the feel underneath my feet, when I fall and get scratched it reminds me Im alive, much more suiting for my soul than grass, so soft, makes my skin turn pink and itchy, concrete suits me much more, at times. As for the smog, its nasty, but again, its home. Ive always seen smog over the horizen, and Ive left that smog behind also, so I have perspective about skies filled with it, and without it, and for me, there is a certain comfort in seeing a smog filled night, it reminds me that Im in a city, a real city, the 5th largest economy in the world! Its a legacy, its mankind, its society, its finding beauty in industrialism, just like the music, all noise, sounds, harsh beats, NIN, industrial, smog, L.A, its all a part of me so how can I here sit here and see those things arent nurturing? Arent they though? How else would I be me if not without those harsh elements being present in my life. So whether negative, or positive, the images were carefully chosen because they reflect the reality of my life, through my eyes.

Again though, who says my poem needs to be comforting, or hopeful? Who says L.A. isnt the villain? I mean I lost my love in you is not exactly a compliment to my city. As a poet I dont have an obligation to write hopeful and optimistic poems, or even poems that reflect the "truth" As moose mentioned in one of my earlier poems that "empty skies" were not accurate to the true dicotomy of life, that its not all about being alone, there is more. But who says I have an obligation to write poetry that reflects "truth"? What is truth but subjective? My lonely poetry is just as much "my truth" as is "its time to start" or "appreciation" once was. I am not annoyed with your guys comments, but I see a trend, it seems yall would like to see a light at the end of the tunnel when it comes to my poetry. Sorry guys, your not going to get it, unless I personally feel that it fits with my idea of how the poem should be written. When I see that light, Ill include it, until than, its empty skies. Please respect that not all of us have much in our lives to be hopeful about.

Black Crow said...

I was just thinking I dont want the last sip to scare anyone from commenting and asking questions. please do! even if I disagree, Ill try not to be so defensive, Ive just been on pins and needles lately, and I apologize if offense was taken. Im choosing to leave the last sip up though, because I think I did a damn good job of explaining the images! just wanted to reassure please question, probe, prod, suggest, even critique, you must critique! if I ever hope to improve Im going to need constructive criticism, and when I disagree it only sharpens my vision, makes me more determined to deliver the poem in exactly the way I see fit. thanks so much for all your support and help!

Black Crow said...

please critique me I confess
my shit writing is a mess!
I may still lack what I need
Writing til my fingers bleed
Forgive my defensiveness
my shit writing is a mess
I could use all of your help
do not listen if I whelp
I can learn from what you say
Disagreeing is okay
Please help me with honesty
or Ill never start to see

defmoose said...

best poem evar!

*standing ovation*

=D

Black Crow said...

*does poetry jig*

Cyrusse said...

does a poetry jig...
wearing a blond wig
while riding a pig
off to eat a fig?

hehe
I agree on the best poem evar, highly amusing!