Saturday, September 14, 2013

Somebody Found The Mute Button & Somebody Found The Butte Mutton

Can't write anything too meaningful or clear right now, but I need to write.  So, you're getting (annoying?) poems again.

"MUTE BUTTON"

And yet, I long to break out of these chains.
I cannot look out to any captor.
I want to end each day that reigns,
Over me darkly while I am stuck in this chapter.

Someone somewhere found the button,
The one that holds me bound.
There seems no end to the feast for the glutton,
Their focus is to silence my sound.

The freedom cry that yearns to escape me,
Is their life's joy to silence.
Despite all sense telling me to let it flee,
My captor remains in defiance.

"BUTTE MUTTON"

There displayed at my control,
Someone found the lost soul.
He had been there all alone,
Wondering if the mountain was his own.
No, it wasn't, as he turned to see,
The creature that brought him to me.
They caught his intimate moment of thought,
As they, a beautiful nature vista, sought.
He looked back, feeling lost,
As though his loneliness no longer bossed
Him to and fro searching for,
What he'd never felt before.
They opened him up, and found the mutton.
No, not with a knife, but with the camera button.
His flesh all remains intact,
His soul felt the brunt of the attack.
He's exposed for my display,
I fear to feel just like him some day.




Spoiler: I wrote the sheep one first and kind of tried to somewhat loop them together despite the different rhyme patterns, speeds, and themes. No, I didn't have these planned out at all.  I originally just liked the phrase "somebody found the mute button" to give a name to my inability to speak to anyone about being gay, despite how WIDE open my opportunities with one person in my real life have been.  I just added the second half about butte mutton to rhyme, but it made me think of a picture of a mountain goat on top of a mountain that I often have displayed as my desktop photo. (see below)  So, for the sake of a better poem I pretended he was a sheep and that he was on a butte (for titular consistency).
As per my typical poetry style, these were written rather quickly, but have a very significant meaning to me.  Wish I felt okay enough with being gay to let you all see my poetry blog, but alas, it has my real name on it.  If you hadn't picked up on the meaning of the sheep poem yet, let's just say that I fear to be exposed for display.

2 comments:

  1. The second poem is so honest, real. Thank you for sharing it.

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  2. Thanks for reading. I feel like this is my one place to really let everything out... to be as real as I can.

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