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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Make It Stop!



For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Out of Standard With Izy ,we are  to parody our own poetic style. I have been told that many of my poems are "bleak." I also tend to write quite a bit about having migraines. So, for fun, I wrote a bit of migraine hyperbole (just a bit!)

My head
an overripe melon 
strains 
against its skin
 I'm on my knees
praying
 puking
 rebuking the gods of PAIN
PAIN
PAIN
Ice pick through my brain
My eyes recoil
from the burn
of the LIGHT
I'm losing the fight
to retain my sanity
and my humanity
as I crumble to a mass
of retching wretched uselessness


5 comments:

Kerry O'Connor said...

There is a good deal of excellent word play in this poem and the roundabout way your words come back capture the pain very well. The parody cleverly lies in its being over the top.

rosemary mint said...

"migraine hyperbole" ... Ha! What a great new genre. :)

This is actually quite good. I get migraines all the time, and you've described the pain perfectly. Especially here:

"My head
an overripe melon
strains
against its skin"

Nice work.

Isadora Gruye said...

I like what you have done here, the exaggerated migraine rhyming and word choice were spot on Parody....though when in the midst of a migraine, all of these images could fee very apt...like the melon straining against its skin. Good work you! Viva la

Margaret said...

Very, very steeped in dramatic pain... love it!

darev2005 said...

If it makes you feel better, that made my head hurt. It was like going to physical therapy. Good and bad at the same time.