Seth Proch

(July 2,1986 - not yet / Bennington, VT)

Biography of Seth Proch

The twenty-something son of a minister from southern Connecticut, Seth was born and raised in the Adirondacks of upstate New York. From a young age, Seth was an awkward child, and saw himself as a loner. He always had the nagging feeling that he had been born with the sole purpose of becoming a tortured artist. This made things between him and God quite turbulent at times, and their relationship is complicated at best. Presently the two are not on speaking terms. Surrounded by the beauty of nature all his young life, Seth believed the world was a simple place, and that there must have been some sort of devine order in the world. Upon moving to Connecticut, and more specifically, into the New Haven area, he abandoned such childlike ideals and embraced the choas and despondency of suburbia. Seth writes only when he feels inspired to, and his poems and prose follow a wide range of topics. To date, he has written about such things as self mutilation, death, self deprication, anarchy, war, starvation, depression, enlightenment, his cynical view of religion, and his personal relationships, but above all else his focus has been love, which is the ultimate evil, ultimate good and thus an infinite source of inspiration for his writing.

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Fire Fighter

Ashes of your love rain down from the skies,
so I keep my head down so they won't sting my eyes,
The smoke envelopes me, but the flames drive me out.
The tar fills my lungs as my heart fills with doubt.
You are a living effigy, burning bright for me,
but that self sacrifice just isn't my scene.

I'm sorry for you cause I can't return the favor,
it's sad but it's true cause I can't return those feelings,

[Hata Bildir]