My Personal Pyromaniac
Feathers are spellbound
now raging in a pyre ,
my wish was to soar
but now it kills like a criminal.
it is an internal conflagration
threatening to flare over in lunacy.
The only way to calm the flame
is with my own truculent soul
to distort and emolliate
So now I submit rapture to the pyrrhic dance
join me in the wild ash and posies
Your wings will back draft me onto chaos
Pray for and prey on me
devout and destroy me
for if it gets out
it will snake and curl a storm
akin to molten glass
to thwart and freeze everything
the ash makes me sick
I quaver under this clay form
and I realize now
that I was not supposed to alter
“I…,
me…,
and mine…”
they belong to his adjudications.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Conversation with an Apple Tree
Conversation with an Apple Tree:Sean Roper
From monsters she runs away and falls before an apple tree.
she cried all day and night awaking to a fairy ring.
“Hello young thing why do you cry?” asked the apple tree.
“Have you not learned a lot? Haven’t you seen the word?”
“No its not that, it’s the things I see” replied the girl
“I see fire, I see hate, I see a world of pain.”
“Oh young seedling you are right, you must be very smart.”
The tree grinning with backward thoughts in his head
“My roots go very deep in the earth and I feel all things.
but I cannot see, so I love to hear what others have done.”
“Tell me a story of what YOU have done to change all those things.”
From monsters she runs away and falls before an apple tree.
she cried all day and night awaking to a fairy ring.
“Hello young thing why do you cry?” asked the apple tree.
“Have you not learned a lot? Haven’t you seen the word?”
“No its not that, it’s the things I see” replied the girl
“I see fire, I see hate, I see a world of pain.”
“Oh young seedling you are right, you must be very smart.”
The tree grinning with backward thoughts in his head
“My roots go very deep in the earth and I feel all things.
but I cannot see, so I love to hear what others have done.”
“Tell me a story of what YOU have done to change all those things.”
The Next Day and the Next Day
The Next Day and the Next Day
By Sean Roper
I’m counting years and all I can remember
is my high school best friend.
She was the bad girl that everyone was scared of.
Her parents were divorced and so she ran wild
smoking drugs, going to raves piercing her own nipples
and even her clitoris. She was also more beautiful than most
blonde hair, blue eyes and looked a little like a mix of Milla Jovovich
and Eva Mendes. Jelyn was the chaos and I was the order, ironically.
I was jealous of Jelyn’s shamelessness she didn’t care about what anyone
thought about her in any situation. She was Jealous
of my goals and understanding of everything.
She was smart, probably smarter than I
she’d fail pre-algebra and get an A in algebra 2
fail most the test in Shakespeare and then get
the only A in all sections on the hardest test.
She was all that is randomness, her lack of
consistency she couldn’t get into college.
I had straight A’s all the teachers liked me but I am not
smart or intelligent just responsible and focused.
She got pregnant with her boss at work at
Game Stop. That has a funny story.
They are not married or getting engaged,
they don’t need it and they are just fine.
They are better off than the rest
of our friends. One became a stripper with a
cocaine addiction; Two others, twins, play World
of Warcraft all day every day, they didn’t even graduate
high school. One got so drunk he died of alcohol poisoning
Three years in college with life
planned ahead…It all just seems pointless to me
my friends didn’t go far in what we all think is important in life
but they had open minds, understanding and most of all
an Indomitable Spirit, they could not be bent to society.
I may not be any better than a dog who knows a few tricks.
By Sean Roper
I’m counting years and all I can remember
is my high school best friend.
She was the bad girl that everyone was scared of.
Her parents were divorced and so she ran wild
smoking drugs, going to raves piercing her own nipples
and even her clitoris. She was also more beautiful than most
blonde hair, blue eyes and looked a little like a mix of Milla Jovovich
and Eva Mendes. Jelyn was the chaos and I was the order, ironically.
I was jealous of Jelyn’s shamelessness she didn’t care about what anyone
thought about her in any situation. She was Jealous
of my goals and understanding of everything.
She was smart, probably smarter than I
she’d fail pre-algebra and get an A in algebra 2
fail most the test in Shakespeare and then get
the only A in all sections on the hardest test.
She was all that is randomness, her lack of
consistency she couldn’t get into college.
I had straight A’s all the teachers liked me but I am not
smart or intelligent just responsible and focused.
She got pregnant with her boss at work at
Game Stop. That has a funny story.
They are not married or getting engaged,
they don’t need it and they are just fine.
They are better off than the rest
of our friends. One became a stripper with a
cocaine addiction; Two others, twins, play World
of Warcraft all day every day, they didn’t even graduate
high school. One got so drunk he died of alcohol poisoning
Three years in college with life
planned ahead…It all just seems pointless to me
my friends didn’t go far in what we all think is important in life
but they had open minds, understanding and most of all
an Indomitable Spirit, they could not be bent to society.
I may not be any better than a dog who knows a few tricks.
Poking at my Retina
Poking at my Retina: by Sean Roper:
Dots and dots to embellish my grueling ambiguity
a soft rain of ink that my sense of acute empathy
drives me to write poetry like my habitual promiscuity
turning back to the ink only to discover my insanity
as the paper still just only has 600,000 dots to go.
those little circles black like
the paper had been near a fire
of falling ash. Ambidextrous hands
could still not finish this any faster on a sober mind.
Pointless it is 100 times faster to paint and
it looks 1000 times better.
Make pizza and drink you only have 599,999 to go.
stippling my skull I am lost to my own humility
of black circles on paper that make a catastrophe
on my paper with ink and ink and ink losing my humanity
to ink and dots called organized calamity.
Play with the cat you only 599,998.5 to go.
oh tiny dots burning my retina
filling my neurons with tiny infectious black dots
making me laugh at random moments
Once in the boredom and quiet I was frozen
by the intense ringing in my
ear and like a sneeze I twitch and
I only have 600,001 to go
Dots and dots to embellish my grueling ambiguity
a soft rain of ink that my sense of acute empathy
drives me to write poetry like my habitual promiscuity
turning back to the ink only to discover my insanity
as the paper still just only has 600,000 dots to go.
those little circles black like
the paper had been near a fire
of falling ash. Ambidextrous hands
could still not finish this any faster on a sober mind.
Pointless it is 100 times faster to paint and
it looks 1000 times better.
Make pizza and drink you only have 599,999 to go.
stippling my skull I am lost to my own humility
of black circles on paper that make a catastrophe
on my paper with ink and ink and ink losing my humanity
to ink and dots called organized calamity.
Play with the cat you only 599,998.5 to go.
oh tiny dots burning my retina
filling my neurons with tiny infectious black dots
making me laugh at random moments
Once in the boredom and quiet I was frozen
by the intense ringing in my
ear and like a sneeze I twitch and
I only have 600,001 to go
The Dream
The Dream by Sean Roper
Let me tell you the dream I have been too.
Its not that different then now
there is only one change.
the plants walk the earth and
flesh grows from the ground.
Insects are the grass, birds the flowers,
people as our trees.
Trees style their leaves, dress in fancy leathers
run to lose weight, watch TV, build homes out
of people putting small potted cats in their
home to freshen the air with CO2 until the rose
bush knocks it over.
Willow trees are fighting over their small
seedlings going to Court with a jury of oak trees
Who Judge and laugh at small jokes.
Then a few young bushes running with their
barking cabbage. Run on the insects kicking cats
and pulling puppies from their roots.
Trees cut us down to make leather books
use our oils to cook. Pick out birds to
give to their wives as they violently attempt
to fly in vain before they wither and die.
Forest of people crying as fire ravages them
no one can hear them they cannot hear
each other. They watch their babies being taken
away to grow alone in a crowd of others.
Crying and nothing can hear them.
Then when they are old enough
the plants desire to eat them raw as
they are already on the bring of death.
I wake from this dream walk down the hall
go to the fridge to have some carrots and
dream again.
Let me tell you the dream I have been too.
Its not that different then now
there is only one change.
the plants walk the earth and
flesh grows from the ground.
Insects are the grass, birds the flowers,
people as our trees.
Trees style their leaves, dress in fancy leathers
run to lose weight, watch TV, build homes out
of people putting small potted cats in their
home to freshen the air with CO2 until the rose
bush knocks it over.
Willow trees are fighting over their small
seedlings going to Court with a jury of oak trees
Who Judge and laugh at small jokes.
Then a few young bushes running with their
barking cabbage. Run on the insects kicking cats
and pulling puppies from their roots.
Trees cut us down to make leather books
use our oils to cook. Pick out birds to
give to their wives as they violently attempt
to fly in vain before they wither and die.
Forest of people crying as fire ravages them
no one can hear them they cannot hear
each other. They watch their babies being taken
away to grow alone in a crowd of others.
Crying and nothing can hear them.
Then when they are old enough
the plants desire to eat them raw as
they are already on the bring of death.
I wake from this dream walk down the hall
go to the fridge to have some carrots and
dream again.
Sean Roper
Kiap
falling into a dark hole in the ground
deeper and deeper until the light dissipates
all over my body I swim to the surface
to see that I was able to skip over
spring fall and winter so now I can
the sun its heat filling
the air with cleansing
dryness the mud slightly cracking
as the ground starts to shake and split
it’s all the same to me the vibrations
stronger and stronger until the rocks
start to glide upwards and side to side
the vibrations build like an oncoming
ambulance until the earth surrounds
me in clouds of chaos the vibration
separates through miles of
rock and lava I see the sun just as strong
as the force that collaborated it
disappears shooting
all things Away from me until I Stand
in the Middle of
Nothing…
Kiap
falling into a dark hole in the ground
deeper and deeper until the light dissipates
all over my body I swim to the surface
to see that I was able to skip over
spring fall and winter so now I can
the sun its heat filling
the air with cleansing
dryness the mud slightly cracking
as the ground starts to shake and split
it’s all the same to me the vibrations
stronger and stronger until the rocks
start to glide upwards and side to side
the vibrations build like an oncoming
ambulance until the earth surrounds
me in clouds of chaos the vibration
separates through miles of
rock and lava I see the sun just as strong
as the force that collaborated it
disappears shooting
all things Away from me until I Stand
in the Middle of
Nothing…
Emotioncide
Emotioncide: by Sean Roper
Can you kill an emotion?
Is it possible that you feel so much hate.
That the sun can no longer shine on you?
Can I feel so much that it physically hurts?
Can I take a knife to my pain and commit emotioncide?
Can you kill an emotion?
I tire to bleed these concoctions of my mind.
I desire to slash and skin them alive
I will them away with the very essence of my being
Is it possible not to feel anything and be living?
Can you kill an emotion?
May I make an illusion to eat these perplexing thoughts?
Could I eat them alive; can emotions bleed?
If I had the chance I would kill my emotions
To be niave again, to not understand, I could once be happy again.
Can you kill an emotion?
If you kill an emotion do you feel another instead?
If I killed everything but joy
Could I feel only its seducing euphoria?
It would be better than any gold
If I killed everything but joy, would I really be happy?
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