The Debutante and the Poet
Inspired stream-of-consciousness poem
“It gets louder and louder with each raindrop
merging its existence into one big flood of
collective consciousness.”
— Bus Diary II
by Medium writer, Booboo
The Debutante and the Poet
by Connie Song
I pull an eyelash and ponder
life and the cosmos —
a kitchen blade is sharpened, the peach plucked
and ready to be slaughtered.
Why look at the world with such judgment
and disdain?
What did the universe ever do to me?
Bitter is the honey unsweetened in the heart
of someone lost —
debutante or poet
I was never given the choice
it was preordained
but now I feel the unfairness of it all
and my words suffer and cry
like orphans
full of disgust
looking for a new runway to take flight
and a new pilot to propel them to the moon
and back.
Where did I go wrong?
Does enough anger
stalk the born serial killer?
Was Dexter doomed
from the start?
Grace notes: Admittedly, I dipped my pen into some residual resentment lingering in my soul. Why wasn’t I born a debutante? Why are some humans’ lives seemingly preordained or programmed, when it comes to the specified conditions they were handed at birth?
My wicked poem was inspired in large part to a stream of consciousness flight in my mind after commenting on an intriguing short piece about contemplations on the bus stop, written by Medium writer Booboo.
Why not take a peek? It’s published in one of my favorite Medium publications, Rainbow Salad.
Here’s the link to his poem.
© Connie Song 2024. All Rights Reserved.
