Literally. Today I post a poem I wrote as a sophomore in college.
I was always “one of the guys.” Periodically I got sick of “the guys” confiding in me, taking me out on non-dates when actual “girls” had ditched them. Sometimes I developed feelings for these “guys” and then I got dramatic and went through stages of moping.
Stage1: Write a poem.
Stage2: Write a song (actually a line, sometimes only a couple of mournful words, strung together by a chord).
Stage3. Paint an abstract depiction of my feelings.
Stage4. (this stage equals total heartbreak and only happened once) Burn abstract painting in kitchen sink, asphyxiating roomates and leaving black marks on the cabinets.
So the DYM has a whiney, self-pitying, destructive side? Umm…ye-ah!
The touch of a Fool
I know
A fool in love
With a woman
I know
Apologetic, whispering fingers
Reach
To brush my shoulder
A quivering knee creeps to meet mine
He craves the touch,
The truth of me
To remind him of
The woman
I know
He loves
I love it… I want to know a name to go with the poem. 🙂
Man. That is so sad. But actually pretty deep poetry to tell you the truth. Thank goodness the fool got away, so we get to have the DYD.
I have to ask, quietly and respectfully of your sophomoric love – did you get ‘the twinge’ when you posted this?
Wow.
Oh, that’s very dramatic. Isn’t it funny how sappy we can be before we find the “right” one? I have dozens of poems like that. Maybe I’ll have to post some of mine for a laugh!!
Loved it Kathryn!
Reminds me of Leanne Womacks song “I’m the fool in love with the fool, who’s still in love with you.” Agree with your mom, DYD kicks on the ‘fool’
Dude, that is the wicked-sweetest poem ever! I love it.