Fatigue Pants
Tuesday, July 27th, 2010Short Poem: Is it good because I think building a collection?
Long distance sprints mental spirit. Any attempt to escape the shrill voice inside the skull. Bloodstream boil until the bursting of bubbles and splashes of hot flame on the hemoglobin hair hides it buckled completely. Panting, pleading, begging for a remedy to this tortuous pain. Surf brainwave powerful than live a life-threatening to erase. The lack of cardiovascular endurance, barely able to breathe. The awakens the spirit of temperament, but the brain ambulance was a late arrival. CPR begins. Hyperventilation, convulsions and seizures followed. Choking occurs. The bungee vomit on the roof of the mouth. She hits the ground before springing back up the throat and esophagus. The image that remains is worse than a bite shark. Mind, body and soul are seriously tired. Brain train of thoughts are near the wreck. It combines the spirit strong enough to think one last thought: Amen.
Wow. You have talent. Go! Just a question, are you a medical student? Because you seem to speak as such. Or maybe you really are in this area. It would be really cool. A caveat, however. Poetry is hard work. I mean beyond the writing. Most poets do not make much money. It requires self-promotion, and always have several copies of your poetry to sell. Good luck! I also intend to become a writer, but I'll have a job to fill, too. Can raise family on the books, except Tom Clancy's your name. Good luck though! It was really good and I hope it improves.