Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Featured Poet; Sydney Foos

"My name is Sydney Foos, I'm a student at Bard College from Los Angeles. I came across your site recently and immediately wanted to be a part of it. I've been writing my whole life, and would love to share my work with you and your readers. Included are a few of my pieces, I hope you enjoy them."

Colorful Nonsense

Sometimes I forget to breathe
forget to keep the blues and reds coursing through
hughes I wish I knew better
maybe life then wouldn't be so granted a taken for
maybe then we could live like were supposed to
with every pint and ounce and drop meaning everything
who knows what we would do if we were a little more alive

And so with every breath and step and quake I will take from you and pull from you all that can be extracted from the sorry shivers that come to me in the middle of the night that say go and stay and need him and leave him and drive yourself mad with worship for what could should will not never be
Snake the sap from within him but never show him his holes. Dive and dwell in the divine highs that his hide provides remember to keep him near but never never never let down those life size walls that dictate his draw to you
Puncture the power that you both provide pile on the crackling curtains that peak at just enough and hide all the rest
Rest on your haunches and follow your hunches that there is more to hunt at in each others hearts
It's haunting how hurtful our happy can be
Forever a fool to forgotten four letter words
Shoulda coulda woulda shoulda stayed on that dilapidated deathbed for another day with my doubts

A few words

If not for ourselves then what are we?
How does a person get so far away from what they are?
Look at that girl with her eyes glazed over with mystery
you'll see what she shows you
you can be hers but you'll never call her mine
She lets you think you've captured her
But at the last moment you'll realize she never gave herself away
What is she looking for and its nothing and everything at the same time
you'll tear yourself apart looking for her
and never realize there's nothing to find

I'll come alive tomorrow she said
and again the next day and the day after that
I'll stop rotting as soon as this next one is done
with this carcass that's left of me
Celibacy she said

What is it that makes us turn on ourselves?
That makes us crawl so deep into the craters of our own pores.
Who are we to eat ourselves alive?
For all that we are how can we hate what we see so much?
I'd rather die than watch myself walk away.

I would hurt me if I were you.

What is it about these men looking at me and then not looking at me and then looking again and have you ever seen so much ugly in a room full of beautiful? Now they all look but instead no one sees.