Self-Fired Bullets
Pockets of air over-inflating my chest
No physical pain, but shortness of breath fed through
music and film and desperate conversations,
Defecated out with these words A frenzy
of synapses fires and screaming and dancing and crying
take place but the face remains stoic,
the voice stays steady
until it doesn't. But it's not the screams you'll hear
it's the manic solutions to big global problems
to other people's issues, to the plot line of the TV show
The frenzy is seen in the wild dervish
reactions to stupid posts by stupid people on
social media. Grasping for control over
social consciousness Because cigarettes are too deadly
and so is anorexia
Railing against the world while
rallying for it Broadcasting warnings
to stop shooting your own feet
while dancing a jig around self-fired bullets Putting it all out
there wanting to be noticed, slapping words
away when it happens.
Pockets of air over-inflating my chest
No physical pain but shortness of breath World, stop
adding on to my plate. Let me sit, just sit though frantically
I grab though I clamor and beg let me lay in the warm
sunshine while the river runs on
while the music plays loudly
while the words come together
while the visions just
float
on
by.
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Author's Note
I'm not sure on the title for this one. It's had about 4 in the last 5 minutes alone, so suggestions welcomed.
Other stories by Emily Sparkles
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How about Please, Yoga, I Need You Now! *
"dancing a jig around self-fired bullets" Sort of nails it. *
I can't think of a title. I normally dislike social conscience poetry but this one has some good turns of phrase.
"Let me sit, just sit though frantically/
I grab though I clamor and beg let me lay in the warm/
sunshine while the river runs on/
while the music plays loudly/
while the words come together/
while the visions just/
float
on
by."
The above lines are beautiful, a separate poem, I think. **
Mathew, you get it. :)
Daniel, Samuel, and Rachna - thank you. Rachna - I see it! Thank you for seeing it and pointing that out!
Don't care for the title, but like the poem.
Thanks, Sam - I feel the same way. Hopefully a better title makes itself known. Maybe a line from the poem itself will be the answer?
Some title suggestions:
Because cigarettes are too deadly
Self-fired bullets
It's not the screams you'll hear
Trying one of your suggestions on for size, SDR. Thank you.
* My favorite part; just a touch of psalm to it:
Let me sit, just sit though frantically
I grab though I clamor and beg let me lay in the warm
sunshine while the river runs on
It's an interesting rumble of words I think overall holds together well. It's actually rather good. As a stickler for microscopic details, what I actually like most about this structurally is the way that a variance in internal pauses serves the acoustic syntax, by whether or not there's a full stop at the end of internal grammatic sentences. And I also have many mornings where I feel what the narrator of the poem does as well.
"I clamor and beg let me lay in the warm
sunshine while the river runs on
while the music plays loudly
while the words come together
while the visions just
float
on
by." Cool.
Iain, I appreciate your thorough and honest feedback.
Nonnie and Darryl, it is always flattering to have lines pulled out as remarkable. Thank you.
Like the intensity and anger *
Thanks, John!