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Timon Odom Poem
Am I a conglomerate of feelings, one meant to demonstrate the full
range of all emotion? But how? Is this possible?
Daily to express the range of human emotion?
Is this human emotion, or that of some other?
This cannot be normality! If anger, if rage destroy, then why am I
still existing? If sadness and depression are suicidal, why do I stand
in this place?
The range of such feelings, emotions, provocations is not fathomable by
any. What then is the conclusion of the matter? Is there a
conclusion? Is there even a matter to be concluded?
If I am one of honor, why does any not exist, why is there no nobility,
no chivalry of any kind? Was I bought forth to be an oxymoron? To
show that one today with such a heading could not be so? Is anything
vanity?
These utterances bring no comfort to the orbit of my mind.
They only complicate an already undeterminable cell of matter.
Why is there no comfort? Procedure is followed, formula taken, but no
change, no result. Am I so unaffected that no medicated solution
bought forth will intoxicate me?
Copyright © Timon Odom | Year Posted 2007
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Timon Odom Poem
Understanding that a period of anger and rage need to be had,
to allow her to vent her emotions and then regain her sense of self and
reality.
But is a prolonged period needed?
Is such a permitted tenure being abused?
Not wanting to give in I remain in a sense of unbudging callousness.
Only such a state will empower me agains the abuse of her warranted
anger.
Why can we no longer be amorists?
Why have we been conformed to have no dialogue between us?
No normality of such a relationship has existed for some time.
Not since this relationship has been cultivated, have we experienced
the socially acceptable union...or even that had among our peers and
elders.
Partly due to my lack of experiecne and damaged conscious, many of our
problems can be charged to me.
But why, when something better is desired, is there no coupled effort?
Nothing sought after on her part?
Perplexed, I seek to dig within myself to alter my ways.
But still she does not appreciate any change.
She continues to have her magnifying glass over my head, only examining
my shortcomings.
Perturbed...Confounded I remain.
Copyright © Timon Odom | Year Posted 2007
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Timon Odom Poem
Regaining a confident spirit, as positivity blossoms within.
The utter sense of a rut has vanished, the charismatic advanceman is
back in control.
Waiting to tackle any and every obstacle with urgency and admirable
aggressiveness.
Feening for opportunity to make his voice be heard, to speak out above
all others.
But just then timidity grips his core, he can utter no word.
Panting, gasping for a breath...why is such a change so rapid?
Confused, all are waiting for the aggressive natured potentate to
arrive, but he is no more.
Replaced by a gentle mild mannered individual, he lies in the company
of beast-like characters...waiting to envelope him.
He withdraws from the situation, doubting himself and his abilities.
His doubts, his motives, are all called into question. What has
happened to the mind and heart of such a respected obelisk-like figure?
He used to dwell by the belief of trusting himself when doubted and
reviled by all others.
But now when doubting himself, what doctrine is to be of a consolation?
Withdrawing...fear gripping...there seems to be no reflective insight,
no thinking or wishing of solution.
Only debilitating doubt and an utter dread of the day to be dawned.
Copyright © Timon Odom | Year Posted 2007
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