Paige Nielsen Poems
|43.||Who Are You?||10/22/2009|
|44.||Bound And Gagged By My Own Insecurities||4/30/2009|
|46.||A Question About Myself||4/1/2009|
|47.||Addictive And Titillating||4/6/2009|
|48.||Best Friends Forever?||4/1/2009|
|50.||Talk About Love||4/1/2009|
|51.||Ode To Bukowski||4/1/2009|
Comments about Paige Nielsen
The fear is absolute:
faces pale as the milk of death,
the inverse of the milk of human kindness.
A haunting sorrow binds the wounds,
enslaving us in its hollowest embrace.
This poem is a metaphor,
but I don’t know why.
I don’t know anything.
These days right is wrong and wrong is right.
Is this someone’s idea of a joke?
Well, buddy, I’m not laughing.
I’m retching in protest,
a one-girl revolution.
Can anybody save us now?
(I doubt it.)
We’re all chained by propriety
and blinded by society,
trading kisses for pennies
and chopping ...
Talk About Love
There's no way to be ready
for what life will give you.
They say love is blind,
but it has 20/20,
and it'll make you bleed.
Sex and blood; smoke and mirrors;
one gigantic mirage,
causing bewitched dreams and shrink appointments.
It'll hurt everyone with no discrimination: