Post by shanamelon on Feb 6, 2007 22:53:10 GMT -5
I was searching for something else and I came across this poem that was apparently written about Shannon and his death, etc.
I liked it alot. I followed the links but I can't figure out who the author is? Just a Jim Carroll fan. Does anyone else know anymore about this person?
Letter to a Porcupine
voidofcourse
Letter to a porcupine
“I find my self singing the same songs everyday,
ones that make me feel good when the things
behind the smiles ain’t ok”
Each word cried in your high husky voice
sends me deeper in love with a dead man,
and its really not good for my psyche.
This heavy tightness it won’t leave me
and obsessively I bare my emptiness to you
I am prone and vulnerable to your sadness
ritualistically you vented you demons
and irrational and craving I lured them in
to churn and thrash within my own skin
I am drawn to your tragedy
their fun house reflections of my own
faint aberrations and similar waste
see, your words, they have been mine.
You sang what I whisper to myself at night,
what makes me restless.
I find acceptance in your blazing currents
of fear and hope, life and death
truth with an eloquence few possessed
Your eerie incantations are even more haunting
now that they’re all that’s left.
Listening to you again today I hear
you say “were not gonna be young forever
so we might as well enjoy it while we are”
But you did stay young forever
you did it by cheating.
So I won’t pay tribute to your selfishness
and regal you as a hero or martyr,
they die for causes
your’s was for synthetic nirvana.
You spun with tombstones in your eyes
crying out your prophecies in hopes of
stealing the power from them, but they grew
from seeds of desperate brilliance
as if self destruction was a pre-requisite
to creating something bigger than yourself
and would you have traded it for more time
would I have wanted you to?
Though I mourn you, and
never having seen you in your
flying, spinning, beautiful glory.
and because I feel tones of home in your songs,
I will try not to let the tinges of hope
that lace them mean less.
Even as I wonder why your own words
weren’t echoing in your head,
take a breath and try again.
“I find my self singing the same songs everyday,
ones that make me feel good when the things
behind the smiles ain’t ok”
I liked it alot. I followed the links but I can't figure out who the author is? Just a Jim Carroll fan. Does anyone else know anymore about this person?
Letter to a Porcupine
voidofcourse
Letter to a porcupine
“I find my self singing the same songs everyday,
ones that make me feel good when the things
behind the smiles ain’t ok”
Each word cried in your high husky voice
sends me deeper in love with a dead man,
and its really not good for my psyche.
This heavy tightness it won’t leave me
and obsessively I bare my emptiness to you
I am prone and vulnerable to your sadness
ritualistically you vented you demons
and irrational and craving I lured them in
to churn and thrash within my own skin
I am drawn to your tragedy
their fun house reflections of my own
faint aberrations and similar waste
see, your words, they have been mine.
You sang what I whisper to myself at night,
what makes me restless.
I find acceptance in your blazing currents
of fear and hope, life and death
truth with an eloquence few possessed
Your eerie incantations are even more haunting
now that they’re all that’s left.
Listening to you again today I hear
you say “were not gonna be young forever
so we might as well enjoy it while we are”
But you did stay young forever
you did it by cheating.
So I won’t pay tribute to your selfishness
and regal you as a hero or martyr,
they die for causes
your’s was for synthetic nirvana.
You spun with tombstones in your eyes
crying out your prophecies in hopes of
stealing the power from them, but they grew
from seeds of desperate brilliance
as if self destruction was a pre-requisite
to creating something bigger than yourself
and would you have traded it for more time
would I have wanted you to?
Though I mourn you, and
never having seen you in your
flying, spinning, beautiful glory.
and because I feel tones of home in your songs,
I will try not to let the tinges of hope
that lace them mean less.
Even as I wonder why your own words
weren’t echoing in your head,
take a breath and try again.
“I find my self singing the same songs everyday,
ones that make me feel good when the things
behind the smiles ain’t ok”