It's been a while, but has anybody written any new material? I just finished an 80 page story. Needs some polish. If anybody is interested, I'll read whatever you got.
Thanks for bringing the thread back.
I've got a little poem about my brother not wanting to take attention deficit medication.
I made it edgy, to match with the tone of a young high schooler who is being told that his brain/soul is inadequate.
I also made it force a lot of rhyme, to match with the inexperienced high school poet's preconception that poems need rhyme. It kind of came out like a rap for that reason, so, make a beat and enjoy, if you want.
Vyvanse ™ Stimulant: Lisdexamfetamine
It can treat ADHD and binge-eating disorder.
Can cause rapid or irregular heartbeat, delirium, panic, psychosis, and heart failure.
Vyvanse
Can’t let my mind dance
Mustn’t not advance
Double negatives
Vetoes consecutive.
If only autocorrect auto-corrected
even more than the expected
Spelling mistakes and/or lazy thumbs
But what if in candor you type ubarukke
And the word is changed to “instilled”
Does it leave you feeling fulfilled?
I’m not particularly particular, but
Damn, fulfilled is redundantly redundant
The same thing twice, full and filled
Double positives?
Phrases corroborative.
Osé can you see
This is that etymology
Words’ developmental psychology
Osé might damn me
Even his name derives from the Latin “Osor”
One who abhors.
But that’s a rude etymological assumption
Osé senses, in a sense, innocence
And now my thoughts come to junction
He is my vyvanse, makes my mania for me
But just for a few hours:
And people around me think it gives them
Superpowers.
I just want to be normal, see?
To achieve normalcy
Go to class with
Mental absorbency
But Osé knows I think abnormally
I don’t mean to support non-conformity
But in the aftermath, after math class
My problems amass. I take vyvanse.
Should I be dispossessed of this possession?
Of my critical concession? Concession:
Is it a treat you buy, or something which you concede?
I wonder how much I’m conceding
How many pharma mouths I’m feeding
When I concede to their creed, that
Without their stuff, my mind is bleeding.
No, it’s me V me.
Self-sparring in spare time
Trying to express it
Using words that force rhyme.
At this point you feel it too,
my stream of consciousness--
my dream of cognizance.
Give me your vote of confidence
And please keep this anonymous
We must share my incompetence
only in ways monogamous.
When I close my esophagus,
toss this in a sarcophagus...
This-- verbal incontinence expressed in musical opulence
We know it’s just my conscienceless,
raw monotonous pompousness
But at least my mind is, in one way, anomalous...
