Inversion of a Poem

This was an exercise I did for class. We had to find a poem we liked, and write the opposite of every word in it. I chose a poem from my favorite poet, Emily Dickenson, of course. The original is "I'm Nobody! Who are you?" And at first I felt the inversion didn't make sense.. But I realized, it makes a ton of sense of how I'm feeling right now. I'm at a point where I'm ready to come out of my shell, but fear and doubt is holding me back. I guess you can say I'm going through something, and it subconsciously came out in this poem, which ended up being really cool. So here it is.. Enjoy.

"I'm Somebody! I thought you were me."

I'm somebody! I thought you were me.
Who is not-- somebody?
Now there is one of us.

Tell everyone! Tell the world! We'll be in the spotlight--
Though, I'm not quite sure.
How wonderful--not to be-- nobody!
How private-- unlike an elephant--
To remain anonymous-- the curtailed December--
To a disappointed desert.

Father

Father as I sit on your lap
Console me. Hug me. Tell me your dreams
You've made for me.
Holy One, Creator, Amazing, Chosen One,
Master, Father of the forgotten,
Ever forgiving one. My salvation.
My victory. My hope. My everlasting Joy
When life is my weakness.
My Dad, in You is my trust.
It's me and You.
Life buzzes by with opportunities at hand,
In my hand to be exact
My hand is open
Please, I beg, take the one I don't need.
I'm lost.
I'm broken.
I've failed.
My mind was made from dirt.
I'm the consequence of filth.
I'm on my face making my brain
One
With what it came from.
Hear me. Father if I ever needed you.
Hear me and wipe my tears.
I'm begging you.

Allen Ginsberg

Learned about this guy in class yesterday and I love the way he reads his poems. He sounds so strange.. But it fits the poems. Very cool. I should warn you about the Second one called "America". It's slightly harshly put.. And he does drop an f-bomb. so just be cautious if that sort of thing bothers you, or if there are kids around.
The First one is called "A Supermarket in California" and is family friendly. Enjoy =]

Milk.

Oh my stomach!
It's burning and sour.
A vile witches brew
Made of anxiety and milk.
If there was ever a recipe
For a miserable night, it's this:
One part lactose intolerance
And five parts facing your fear.

William Butler Yeats

I didn't write this, but it's one of my favorite poems by William Butler Yeats.

Come, let me sing into your ear;
Those dancing days are gone,
All that silk and satin gear;
Crouch upon a stone,
Wrapping that foul body up
In as foul a rag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.

Curse as you may I sing it through;
What matter if the knave
That the most could pleasure you,
The children that he gave,
Are somewhere sleeping like a top
Under a marble flag?
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.

I thought it out this very day.
Noon upon the clock,
A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,
Whether to maid or hag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup,
The moon in a silver bag.

Answer

Ah-hah--
An answer.
Arbitrary
Asked of and abandoned.
Able to ache and age.
Ancient, angled and slanted.
What good are you answer
If I can't find you.
I ask and am able to associate
One thing with you.
But you're not here.
Absolute.
Obsolete.
Aggravated.
Angry,
Alternating,
Altruistic after all.
And Aloof.

Ash

Final and gross
Rotten, disgusting.
Grey.
It's grey like time.
Grey like you.
Ash.
Grey ash.
Old and used.
We were ash once.
Ash was cold
And grey.

Television

Useless cube upon my wall Bringing strangers into my home
Pretending, exagerating, diverting my mind.
Never-ending vanity--
transforming young and old.

You don't stop going, unless upon request
Only asked by some.
An escape for few and trap for all
Going back and forth in time.

I once had thoughts, opinions, and laughed to myself.
They've been sucked into a void
Swished around its rotting teeth, spewed back. They lie piled on the floor.

Our heads collide
Turning all brains to one.
I've flipped the switch--
Going...
Going...
Gone.

Humans

A revelation through a glass
So clear and vivid
What we see, soon will pass.

We're all humans on this earth,
Filthy souls
Dying from birth.

We are mortal, and our bones--they break
Our muscles grow feeble
Our wearing joints will ache.

Our hearts are bitter, dying, cold
We never realize the state we're in
Until this earth may deem us old.

Never realizing, we're dead in our youth
Our energy, a deafening mindset
Leave us blind to truth.

The truth is, we're old the moment we're born
Dying ever second
God's wrath deteriorating us like worms.

Growing up, or so it seems
Bring imperfection to light
The longer I remain, the brighter it beams.

We're simply humans, beholding an ugly reflection
Needing the brightest Light
To melt our imperfections.

Le canard et Le Basin (French)

“Voila, le confiance.
Tu es trop parfait
J’entends la pluie, mais neanmoins, je danse.
Moi, pourrai-je te plait?

C’est la raison de la vie
Et maintinent je me rends folle
Le point de contradiction
Et je sais que tu le trouve drole.

Je suis une canarde
Dans le petit bassin de cette vie
Et je trouve des bombards.
Dans tes ris de cette plaisanterie.

Malgre mes pensees,
Apres tout ton assurance
Sur ce bassin glasse’
Je danse, et je danse.”

Knife

Knife
With a split down the middle
And a cold knife at my side
I'm lying open on the table
I feel there's nothing I can hide.

I'm conscious but I'm not awake.
Feeling empty, but it's all exposed--
Proving to you that I'm not hollow.
I try to see too, but my eyes stay closed.

The reality is my eyes are open,
And they're open way too wide.
I'm focusing on the part that split
Rather than looking inside.

The intricate details of what lies beneath
Are far deeper than I knew
I didn't realize they were there
Until he cut me through.

I see the surgeon cutting deep
And hear every splitting sound
I can't look down, my eyes won't go.
I'm forced to look around.

While my eyes scan the room
Comparing all i see,
He's examining deep inside,
If only I could go so deep.

June

At the crossroads;
Stuck.
I am stuck.
Fear.
Sounds.
Voices, noises, loud.
Cry.
Cry for health.
Not help.
June.
It's coming.
Eighteen days.
It will be here,
At a crossroads.
Still.
Stuck.
Crying.
Scared.
But not alone.
Where?
Where are you?
Now.
You're here now.
Where are you now?
Which way to turn?
Let's jump.
I can't look. I can't look. I can't jump. I'm stuck.
Jump in
June.
June.
June,
And cry.
It will be
Okay.
Okay in June.
You are June.
And so are we.
Okay
To cry for June.
Just jump in June.
Wait, stop.
Okay, it's June.
June is now,
You have been here now.
It is june.