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Natasha Anne Rose Bowman

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How Cliché We Are
by Natasha Anne Rose Bowman
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Natasha Anne Rose Bowman
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           >> View all 50

How cliché we are,

When the only satisfaction we get is in being indirect.


Our skies are pink

And rain falls from the grass

Into our clenched fists.


Everything is a contradiction here.

My mind is inedible cotton candy.

We bathe in cartoon water,

Hold hands by a stream of taboo …

            And yet we never touch.


How cliché we are.

How false, how overbearing!

Do you ever speak to the sky?

            You, and me … we’re all part of someone’s

            Inventive concoction.

            We were placed into a blender,

            And set on high.

It’s simply fluke that my arm is not your leg.


How cliché

Are these emotions?

Do they even exist?

We’re technological pioneers of adolescence,

Floating around in the lava lamp of time.

            This is not a rehearsal!

            (Yet I’ve no script or stage makeup)


You sketch thumbnail-sized anarchists 

The way Disney sketched Mickey Mouse.

We’re all going to die,

So why not die in revolution?


Kick up your feet

And smile,

Because we may be cliché,

But it gives us a connection.  


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Reviewed by Z McClure 12/11/2009
Another probing look at the expectations we have of one another. I just love the depth of your writing- every word a make me think...which is good. Why can't we just be ourselves instead of being these puppets of others expectations? Challenging yet zesty write!
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader) 4/15/2009
Very well done indeed dear lady...stay safe and well..Hugss
Reviewed by Carolyn Red Bear (The Bear Paw) 4/12/2009
Hi Natasha, I've often thought this myself, but only your words make it so clear. So why not die in revolution... i love it.... great write...

In Spirit,
Reviewed by Darrell and Kathy Adams 4/11/2009
A connection indeed. Very interesting food for thought. Be well, Kathy
Reviewed by H Cruz 4/11/2009
Colorful metaphores; no cliche here
Reviewed by Gene Williamson 4/11/2009
Interesting, Natasha. I never thought of myself as a cliche until that day when, three sheets to the wind, I was struck by a bolt from the blue, which provoked me to take the bull by the horns or, you might say, get down to brass tacks and call a spade a spade, or vice versa. As I remember, it was a red-letter day. I like how you write.
Reviewed by Mary Lacey, Desertrat 4/11/2009

i really loved the unusual analogies that give this an extraordinary
perception of what life can be like.

Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 4/11/2009
in the end--the truth is told!
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 4/11/2009
You write refreshingly and cleverly, Natasha. I mean that as a compliment. Love and best wishes,

Regis (also a Canadian person)
Reviewed by John Flanagan 4/11/2009
I like the take here and the strong perspective, challenging and worthwhile.

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