What i'm up too...

By sarah 15 Nov 2001

If you don’t know me. I write poetry. Lots of poetry. Lots of bad bad bad poetry. As long as the verse is terse and perverse… This isn’t best, nor even done, but it was from today.

  In trouble with Nature


    
Who will explain to me

my location in time and space?

Is my nature nutured or is it

some miscalculation.

    
The burden of inquiry 

on my shoulders rests alone,

has left me at a profound loss

still looking for a home.
  
      The universe is too stable,
    nature plain and clear, 
    for strange anomalies.  
  
    
In our world’s mechanistic

or chaotic points of order

there still is some insistant force

pushing me beyond the border.

    
Perhaps I have lost my faith

or rather never had it;

just some trick of youthfullness

a useless, wasteful habit.
  
      The world is quite undone
    as I move through the night
    searching for you.  
  
    
Should I assert my right to live-

sorrid, bloodstained wretch I am.

Where will I locate that right?

When will my searching end?

    
Or just accept my parriah place

far removed from kith and kin.

Accept myself as I am seen

sunk in death and sin.
  
      The sun-warmed stone under my thighs
    ties me to the world of light-
    to know this gives me meaning.

Tags: poetry