(Public Affection) Endorphin-Driven Delusional Ecstasy, a poem by Drem

This is a long poem I wrote in 2o12. I’m going to try to write it up all right now. Okay? Okay. Oh God. I’m tired already. /yawn

Let me know if you find it interesting!

It was originally called Public Affection.

Featured image found on Google Images. It is by luisbc.

(Public Affection) Endorphin-Driven  Delusional Ecstasy, a poem by Drem

April 28, 2012

“It is possible

to die

from bearing witness

to public affection.

I’m serious.

And no,

it’s not the consumption

of jealousy

that gets me,

or the overwhelming sense

of urgency

to feel anything.

Nor is it the dreams I have

that drown my sanity

made of

what-ifs

and if-it-coulds

tempting me

and baiting me-

saying in the ears

of desperation

that one less speck of happiness

would make my overwhelming

sense of vacancy

any darn better.

No.

It’s the literal

feelings

I witness

through facial expressions

and twinges in cheeks

and twinkles in eyes

and if it’s really quiet,

even,

I can hear

hearts dancing.

They’re alive.

… I never thought

arranged marriage would seem sensible

to a western

secular

death-culture

raised girl

like me.

It’s the feeling

The act of feeling.

And then,

excessively expressing,

actually acting

upon

passions

that’s perplexing,

driving what we

do to logic-

drown it, down it,

with all our humanity

with pills after pills

popping

the every day

suffering

away.

Suffocating days

turn into cycles

of limited gray.

That’s so much better

than existing

in total darkness,

or reaching nirvana

without sunglasses on.

Like.

Like you.

Like him.

Like her.

Like it.

I like it.

Inanimate objects.

Because they’re predictable.

Even cases

of spontaneous combustion,

it’s textbook.

Statical.

Head in a book

with your mind digesting,

acting as a calculator

the words weighed

like pieces of meat from a market vendor.

And yet,

yeah, there is

somewhere

something

saying

that an interaction

like that

under certain conditions

might be pleasant…

to feel what it’s like

to be the one

who is real,

who is suffering

and in love.

And then in

endorphin-driven

delusional ecstasy

dance in it.

Not what it’s like to be,

to be,

what we are.

What are we?

Dependent

on psychotropic drugs

and stimulants

controlling our hormones

and thus perceptions

of like, love, or lust.

We are much closer

to being robotic.

I think maybe even cement.

But we’re not real

in a sense

of total consciousness

with the range of colors

that represent expressions and feelings

in our pockets.

We’re sleeping.

In any case,

after yesterday,

I know it’s possible to die

from bearing witness

to public affection.

To life in action.

Life

that we go through

in gray hondas

or white delivery trucks.”

 


8 thoughts on “(Public Affection) Endorphin-Driven Delusional Ecstasy, a poem by Drem

    1. You know, I’m sitting here. Completely exhausted in a cold sweat. And I’m thinking, “that was a really great fucking poem”. And then I’m like- nah, it’s cause u haven’t slept and shit and meds.

      Your compliment really made me feel self-assured in myself!!!!!!!!!!!!
      I might change the title back since you said that.

      I hope more people read this one. I like it a lot. This rhythmic style is my favorite. It’s my signature. Throughout the years, this has what always stayed. When I read it out loud it’s very fast and even aggressive. And I have a heavy New York accent so it sounds like I’m rapping. LOL. Drem the rapper. WATCH OUT KANYE!

      Liked by 2 people

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