Sinking, Yelling, Wearing Down

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  • GeniusMan
  • When push comes to shove, conga lines can get pretty ugly.

Poem Commentary

My dad's left the house again, because all the men in my family are idiots. I'd like to disclude me, but I'm sure I'm an idiot, too. I wish that my family would not biaosly detach from each other, it only makes us split apart more. Here's a poem I wrote to let out some steam. The term 'goldbrick' is a term that stemmed from the 1910s to mean a lazy person. I chose it because the sinking ship I wrote about could be a metaphor for the Titanic which sunk sometime around there. maybe. I don't know, you tell me... Anyway, I wasn't really trying to be all that clever, as I was trying to stop the tears, because as you'll see the "plumbing leaks."

Sinking, Yelling, Wearing Down

A house is like a family
And a family is like a boat
And they all cannot function
if their glorious base has broke

The foundation cracks, the plumbing leaks, the roof is losing tar,
The parents fight, the children cry, the whole thing falls apart,

The cornerstone of the household,
falls fast, and with it comes
The falling of bricks, the sinking of ships,
the traumatic tapping of the drums

The plants creak in, and so does doubt
The shadows of paranoia rise
The walls are split, a buried ship
The house excepts it's demise

The goldbricks tried, they heard and cried
they watched as this house split
The chunk of ice that is ones heart
Has left two halves of a ship

A house is like a family,
And a family is like a boat,
They all are the same, they'll all feel pain
Such pain like you'll never know

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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GeniusMan’s Poems (63)

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