This writing is about how I grew up to be me. How the city of L.A. changed my senses, my abilities to interact and my worth. How I began to feel the deep need of companionship and love that seemed to be lost. It is how I lived in my youth, and how it affected me later in life.
After all, the ghosts we keep are useful from time to time.
This poem originally was published in Poems on Life
Let It Fall
|
One more anti-hero worship from the depths of some enigmatic fool that left the suburbs for the open fields of post modern flight from hell. No, not from the quakes or the rumblings of racism, that stench we all tend to want to get rid of, but the fact that there were just too many things wrong. So off I went to the last journey of my youth, through the pubs and alleys of Los Angeles that served many nights of reckless talk and the establishment be damned. There goes Happy House, Scream and all those open up at 10 pm party houses, where you paid 5 bucks to drink yourself to life, and walk out Saturday morning at 6 am like the kind demons we were. And dance the pain that we had kept for the week and wonder what 30 would be like and if the Virgin Prunes were right about "If I die I die". But then, that love in your soul the one that makes you write and pour out those false indignities that caress your heart and mind for after all we've been through stars have their moments and then they die. |
FREE Things You Can Do With This Poem
-
Send this poem to a friend
-
Find more poems by this author at the Main site
© 2000 Michael G Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.
