O this learned and engrained sickness, <br />this obsession with words, sadly, <br />I must admit I am terminally afflicted, <br />The words they grow inside like a loving cancer. <br /> <br />Venomous habit, <br />this tangled practice: <br />manipulating spider webs <br />of suffering <br />into ivory orchid offerings. <br /> <br />In vain I can strain my mind all day <br />but alas, to no avail, <br />this veil still obfuscates the space between us. <br /> <br />Intruding and impeding, uninvited <br />they filter through my web; <br />mosquitoes blemishing naked summerlit flesh, <br />bits of lead and calcium <br />accumulated in my seer's spigot, <br />muddying the cup <br />from which we sip and share. <br /> <br />Like a horse with blinders, <br />these words keep me running along <br />this never ending-short lived-straight forward-circular track <br />The words whip and I obey! <br /> <br />Hah these silly empty abstractions! <br />Such a laughable pity how <br />they have made me their slave! <br /> <br />But let me be honest, <br /> <br />I'll never have the courage to run. <br />There's no escaping- they are my escape! <br />I could never bring myself to abandon them <br />I've grown too accustomed to their phantom, poetic world <br /> <br />My whole life is built upon these abstractions! <br />I've grouped people into three basic categories: <br />Inspiration, Support and Distraction! <br /> <br />O to find haven in the land of pure color and image, <br />to communicate through the soul <br />and forever keep my mouth closed! <br /> <br />O to be a master of psychic intuition and animal instinct! <br /> <br />Dry and brittle, these words, a carcass, discarded bone <br />void of all essential marrow <br /> <br />Bloated and lifeless, these moribund words, this poem <br />lacking all essential qualities of health and meaning.<br /><br />Gregory Allen Uhan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-only-i-was-a-painter-old-familiar-feelings/
