MISTREL

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    MISTREL


                    No one will ever really know-
                             the feelings I let go..
                    For all to see, to look upon me-
                        My face naked as one could be...

                    Others think it to be abstruse-
                             but- its all the misanthropy
                                       that has evolved me..

                    It offers me comfort-
                             not to be so wrenched..
                    They speculate..
                    They conclude..
                             it's just caustic stench-

                    On the contrary..
                             I've never seen more clearly-
                    I amuse myself to watch them..
                             spend their time so un-dearly-

                    I just see what is tainted- 
                             and a waist of time...
                    While others spend years-
                             in selfish despondant circles confined..

                    I am free of such hypocrisy..
                            that they say are benevolent 'tries'..
                    When their ultermotives..
                            are their lives defined..

                    They realize I'm all too aware of their ways-
                       I have no reverence..
                            to sink into their sophism plays..
                     Seemingly frustrated...
                            that they're left disarray-

                     Sickening they are..
                            they're so conditioned to live
                                      such uneventful lives..

                     I hope we see an end..
                           to this social- stigma trend...

                     I settle for no one-
                           and shed myself of the rest..
                               of all that conform to idiocy at its best-

                     I am bare to the rest..
                          BUT..I am sheltered by this
                                          beat in my chest....

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    Artie commented on MISTREL

    06-30-2009

    I love this poem. One of my new favorites. It seems that you and I share a similar dislike. 10 from me.
    Reply to Comment

    Hampton commented on MISTREL

    06-28-2009

    My interpretation of this writing is of one drawing ever inward in order to escape the eyes of those that waste their lives on meaningless meanderings.
    Reply to Comment

    Amare13

    06/29/2009

    Hey..well that's it.. in a nutshell-I believe you know ...It's so nice to hear from ya..Talk to you soon. Amare

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Amare13’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    The Art of Love 7 06/28/2009
    MISTREL 2 06/28/2009
    Derision 4 06/01/2009
    Your eyes.. 6 06/01/2009
    Sinister Vortex 7 05/30/2009
    Bellicose 4 05/29/2009
    Odium 5 05/27/2009
    Crescendo 3 05/27/2009
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