pearls

Just Saying

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2009/10/17
Just Saying

I don't know what to do.  I've got no plan
so if this works out, it'll be dumb luck
and I'll step back and wonder what the fuck
then rearrange what happens, if I can,
to make it end somewhat how it began
as if behind the scenes a deal was struck
despite my aimless nonsense, and it stuck,
so never mind the way things really ran.
Since no god comes along to run the show,
I'm on my own, come fortune or regret.
No proper word is ever apropos —
at best I'll use the best words I can get.
Is this the way to put it?  I won't know
until I'm done, and that's not happened yet.


 
Just Saying Nothing
Is this the way to put it?  I won't know
until I'm done, and that's not happened yet
nor does my drift pose too serious a threat
no matter how much it appears as though
my poetry must sport a quid pro quo
to dress up its erratic silhouette,
some sacrifice to settle up my debt
for every scrap of nothing I still owe.
For what it's worth, there's nothing going on,
there never was nor will there ever be,
unless we count each hiccup, burp or yawn —
whatever, that's still all i guarantee.
What little faith I had is dead and gone
as though it never felt a part of me.


 
Just Saying Scratch
What little faith I had is dead and gone
as though it never felt a part of me . . .
no, worse than that, like leftover debris
discarded from the refuse of my spawn.
Trust gets me nowhere.  Every move's a con
prepackaged for a dream raised on TV
where everything's for sale and no one's free.
I tried.  My application got withdrawn.
It's said I need to let the reins relax,
just let the language speak, see through its eyes,
give up control, submit to random acts,
spread open to its improbable surprise.
OK then, let's play roulette with the facts:
give Tyche my pen, let's see what she'll devise.


 
Just Saying Whatever
OK then, let's play roulette with the facts:
give Tyche my pen, let's see what she'll devise
our hopes to dress in probable disguise
uneasy in each outcome choice impacts,
our doubt to carve out inauspicious tracks.
At any given moment, last goodbyes
capriciously kiss sins we'd most despise.
We do this to ourselves, these wild attacks.
When purposes are vain, when cause is null,
or when our reason justifies abuse,
let probability the credits cull
to meaning-challenged changes we produce.
Why waste your time on such a fickle trull?
Don't try to clean my act up.  It's no use.


 
Just Saying Shit
Why waste your time on such a fickle trull?
Don't try to clean my act up.  It's no use
expecting tight control of one so loose
or drilling sense into so thick a skull.
That quiet's just my eye, it's not a lull;
this pause was just my breath, don't call a truce;
et cetera.  I've got no good excuse —
whatever choice can sharpen chance can dull.
What more did you expect? that I might last?
One force alone can promise it won't quit
and even what that's got is going fast
with precious little left to call legit.
At most I've had an accidental past;
at best you were a pointless piece of it.


 
Just Saying Sorry
At most I've had an accidental past;
at best you were a pointless piece of it.
I'd give a damn, but I don't give a shit
which hit might miss me when the die are cast.
The pit of possibilities is vast
with millions more of us, as counterfeit,
like pearls as never likely to commit,
like moonlight at its darkest when harassed.
I know such words are not for me to say,
that first I'd have to be as sure as you
and maybe soon I will, but not today —
today I'm into what will get me through.
So let's just let what was lie where it lay
and flip the change that's left for something new.


 
Just Saying Goodbye
So let's just let what was lie where it lay
and flip the change that's left for something new
as though it matters what we choose to do.
We can't decide the ending nor the way,
but only whether we will pay to play.
There was a chance, that much I know is true,
but chances kill the love we feed them to
and in the end, you knew I wouldn't stay.
I'm told I need to find myself a man,
just settle down, be normal, earn a buck.
I'll take what comes, that's no less certain than
some shrinkwrapped system guaranteed to suck.
I don't know what to do.  I've got no plan
so if this works out, it'll be dumb luck.

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9 Responses

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  1. Samantha said, on 2009/10/21 at 02:36

    L.M. –
    hmmmm…. so raw… bitter… skeptical… self-defeating…. and, yet.. such a lovely read and endearing at the same time. how do yo do that? will have to re-read this a few more times.. to let it seep all the way in…
    thanks,
    Sam

  2. Miss Demure Restraint said, on 2009/10/21 at 15:41

    I’m endlessly amazed by all I find here. I had thought to comment on the post, but was stopped dead in my tracks by your comment here.

    I love it all, but was most taken by the line “unloved, unmarried, free in her feral form.” Beautiful beyond words.

  3. bindo said, on 2009/10/21 at 16:29

    There is so much to comment on..Miss D is correct
    So i will only say
    “Welcome, yass welcome.”

  4. lady maggie said, on 2009/10/21 at 13:34
    formal singularity
    Controlled no more by diction than his bark
    outspoken in her meter, rhyme, and schemes
    usurping fiction with her surreal regimes
    no practiced cheater takes for mindless dark
    to suffocate creation's breathless spark,
    escaping his attempted sterile themes
    rolled by temptation's vice around her dreams
    as though exempted from her crime's own mark —
    soft whispers stretch out edges of her storm
    submerging visions buried in her breath
    against false pledges made, sentenced to death,
    unloved, unmarried, free in her feral form.
    Let Discipline, my teacher, work my skill
    to tame this creature, bend her to my will.
    
  5. rallentanda said, on 2009/10/22 at 16:16

    So,what form is this ABBA/ABBA/CDDC/EE
    I like the sentiments of the rhyming couplet and the surreal regimes
    you are imposing on yourself. I have yet to read the above which I’ll do later on. This is such a good poem Maggie!

  6. barbara_y said, on 2009/10/22 at 16:33

    Wow, dense and emotional. I can scarcely manage rhymes.
    There is some nice stuff here. I especially like “his attempted sterile themes
    rolled by temptation’s vice around her dreams”

  7. lady maggie said, on 2009/10/23 at 04:23

    regarding the ABBA/ABBA/CDDC/EE rhyme scheme for formal singularity which i added in the comments here, that has a standard octave from the petrarchan, of course, but then uses the fourth alternative for petrarchan sestet that is currently listed at the wikipedia entry for the petrarchan sonnet, and without indulging in any debate about the dubious authoritative value of wikipedia, what interested me about that was how that makes that mutation of petrarchan draw close to some hybrid of a shakespearian by the way it closes with a couplet, so i’m pushing that petrarchan variation through masculine rhymes on the ends, while toying with feminine rhymes in a classical shakespearian on my internal rhymes, hence the rather twisted sound that comes through, which was not entirely unintentional, echoing the strangled theme i meant to echo

  8. Joseph Harker said, on 2009/10/23 at 04:56

    I think it’s worked out quite well, a very fine crown of sonnets. 🙂 Will you continue with more?

    • lady maggie said, on 2009/10/23 at 10:50
      more?
      more? yeah maybe so, for better and for worse
      as sure as sin
      at least one i know justifies it as my curse
      another mistakes a win
      more, sure, we'll just sidestep any casual mention
      what's as deep as skin
      some parts go bitter if not the center of attention
      other parts just show thin
      more. why the hell not, let's all get wasted drastic
      let the real fun on in
      just forgive me a heart made of hardened plastic
      and pass me the gin
      more than one bottle more more than just one more
      more than one friend more more than just one more
      more than one smudge more more than just one more
      more than one bed more more than just one more
      more than one stone more more than just one more
      more than one word more more than just one more
      more than one scab more more than just one more
      

Sincere comment by readers who accept responsibility for their words will earn my appreciation and response.

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