NUCLEAR CREATION

this is the sound of the chaos that lives within the opium dens of the minds of the modern day pubescent creatures who crawl across midnight streets
they swim through the sound, they pierce their swollen skin with the needles of toxic ideology and the dance music of devils
the fires that burn in guts like drugs, like the fizzle of disease, like the acidic aftertaste of childhood but still all the red orange yellows and the green blue indigos glow on their faces racing for less sleep and more dilemma
we crave the taste of gravel, the god twisting turn tables, the agents of social murder, the proprietors of sore bodies and the come down from ecstatic heights
this is the world that we duplicate and spin on table tops in smoky lounges the size of problematic arenas, this is the kiss between morbid girls and suicidal boys
what we have on our hands is nuclear creation, to counterbalance nuclear destruction
this is windows down, hair blowing in faces, the bass blasting like super soakers into the hollow universe of three in the morning and we make birthquakes that everyone feels in their bones and veins but god, if most of us are just too numb to even want to notice

this is the sound of the chaos that lives within the opium dens of the minds of the modern day pubescent creatures who crawl across midnight streets
‘together we can face that rock and roll’, together we can chase radioactive unicorns to our destinies as demi-gods of a new hope for a better reality and a truer love
and today our parents hate us for it, but one day our ancestors will lift us to the technicolor sky and stare in awe as we present to them our magnum opus, our thunder and lightning show

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

READ “IT’S A “LISTEN TO THE BEATLES ON VINYL IN HEADPHONES” KIND OF NIGHT

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32 thoughts on “NUCLEAR CREATION

  1. Hi Brice. I have just nominated you for a Liebster Blog Award. Visit my blog rcethan.wordpress.com to find out the 11 questions I’d like you to answer.

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  3. this is the sound of the chaos that lives within the opium dens of the minds of the modern day pubescent creatures who crawl across midnight streets
    they swim through the sound, they pierce their swollen skin with the needles of toxic ideology and the dance music of devils…

    I understand what you are trying to say but it actually makes no sense at al–could you explain what is the ‘sound of the chaos that lives within the opium dens of the minds of the modern day pubescent creatures…’ If you are trying to rewrite “How” I don’t think you are getting your point across. It sounds like a non-sensical verbal rant-which I have no problem with as I do them myself but I call them ‘throw away poems’-though I don’t throw them away but I don’t take them seriously as anything aproaching the art of poetry. You might as well have just said, or yelled ‘noodles,noodles, noodles!’ and you would have gotten the same effect.

    • “this is the sound of the chaos that lives within the opium dens of the minds of the modern day pubescent creatures who crawl across midnight streets”

      I was listening to the song “Professional Griefers” by deadmau5. The whole poem is a direct reaction to what the song made me feel. It’s about electronic dance music ‘this is the sound of chaos that comes from a generation of modern drugged kids who stay up late.” That’s all it is. And yes, it does sound a lot like Howl. I acknowledge this. I just wrote what came out though. I wrote the whole thing during the five minute song.

      I hope someone gets more than “noodles, noodles, noodles” out of it, but if that’s what it makes you feel, then “noodles.”

    • Thanks for answering my question. I’ like the original idea of your ‘birthquake’. Couldn’t you have simply used that metaphor and extended it just a bit and created a much more powerful effect, not to mention clarity, for the reader? Or was this supposed to be a ‘rant’ poem. I have three pieces that are at different stages at the moment, but I will find the time to read more of your work. I stress work, because writing poetry is work–dull, hard, bangyourfuckingheaagainsta walldashyourbrainsoutwork, but then there are those sublime moments when it seems as if the universe is directly in tune with your thoughts and most of all your ego–that the part where you take the muse to bed for the night because you’ve been up two nights running trying to decide where the god damned comma should go. I appreciate your being interested in what Iam doing and checking it out-also as well, I’m glad you liked the poem. ‘Annotations’ came directly from the accompaning photo with it–visual stimulation is a big resevoir of inspiration for me, also a turn of phrase or just a word by itself. Well, the inspiration is easier than the work that comes after it. Have a great day. KB

      • I kind of come from the Kerouac school of “first thought best thought”, but really I come from the school of “I have ADD and I’m lucky if I get to the end of the poem without being distracted.”

      • So I’ll see your ADD with my ADHD and raise you with being bi-polar before they even knew what to call it- let’s not play that game-you’re either a writer in an open forum asking for criticism or you’re not.

  4. PS: I just read your blurb here at the bottom about writing not what people want to hear but what you want to say–the point is to say what you want to in a way that people will find they want to hear without knowing it.,

  5. Evocative.
    Try reading it to Dengue Fever’s Ethanopium.
    I just did that and it’s superb.

  6. Favorite lines:
    “racing for less sleep and more dilemma

    “today our parents hate us for it, but one day our ancestors will lift us to the technicolor sky and stare in awe as we present to them our magnum opus, our thunder and lightning show”

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