An Affect [a personal poem]
An Affect
I often feel as if I damage everyone I touch;
as if contact with me in some way diminishes
the essence of those unfortunate enough to
enter into my mangled sphere of tangled dreams
and broken hopes, my failed attempts and
grandiose disappointments which mark my days.
I often look upon those who have ventured close
and wonder for their safety; their hearts and minds
are in mortal peril as they are engulfed by the
angst and anguish, strife and decadence that permeates
my every pour, that surrounds my every jester,
which makes me ever more a threat to those, too close.
I sit alone when surrounded by others as the anxieties
swirl about my days and abound beyond control,
vexing the very center of my gravity, an enigma which
bound to my heart, troubles my thoughts and drains
my blood to the page, where it spells out the thousand
shocks and heartaches my flesh is heir to, my consumption.
I empty my thoughts into a bottle with a black label which
spills out amber liquid in which I swim at night until
I lose sensation in all my extremities and find the peace
of cold, black nothing and let the chilling calm become
me as I lie back upon a bed that I have unmade beside
one who looks upon me, ever, with a glimmer of hope
that I will amass a sum,
greater than my parts.
Marc Daneker 2007
I often feel as if I damage everyone I touch;
as if contact with me in some way diminishes
the essence of those unfortunate enough to
enter into my mangled sphere of tangled dreams
and broken hopes, my failed attempts and
grandiose disappointments which mark my days.
I often look upon those who have ventured close
and wonder for their safety; their hearts and minds
are in mortal peril as they are engulfed by the
angst and anguish, strife and decadence that permeates
my every pour, that surrounds my every jester,
which makes me ever more a threat to those, too close.
I sit alone when surrounded by others as the anxieties
swirl about my days and abound beyond control,
vexing the very center of my gravity, an enigma which
bound to my heart, troubles my thoughts and drains
my blood to the page, where it spells out the thousand
shocks and heartaches my flesh is heir to, my consumption.
I empty my thoughts into a bottle with a black label which
spills out amber liquid in which I swim at night until
I lose sensation in all my extremities and find the peace
of cold, black nothing and let the chilling calm become
me as I lie back upon a bed that I have unmade beside
one who looks upon me, ever, with a glimmer of hope
that I will amass a sum,
greater than my parts.
Marc Daneker 2007
posted by Zoner at 7:21 PM
2 Comments:
standing in the freezing fucking rain today...at one more funeral, i move with my umbrella to protect his best friend...he turns to me and says, 'im okay, its just a bit of rain'
the sum of the parts add up to a whole
change the parts, when required.
Dude,
You seem really lonely. Being alone and being lonely are distinct from each other. Being alone is not negative, while loneliness is. You are lonely. Your poetry articulates this condition in a touching way. I feel for you so much! (This condition is called empathy)
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