How Cliché We Are (poem) by Natasha Anne Rose Bowman on AuthorsDen

How Cliché We Are
by Natasha Anne Rose Bowman → (All Poetry by Natasha Anne Rose Bowman)
Rated "G" by the Author.

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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.

Reviewed by David Clure

Reviewed on December 11, 2009

Another probing look at the expectations we have of one another. I just love the depth of your writing- every word a clue...you 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)

Reviewed on April 15, 2009

Very well done indeed dear lady...stay safe and well..Hugss

Reviewed by Carolyn Red Bear (The Bear Paw)

Reviewed on April 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,
Bear

Reviewed by Darrell and Kathy Adams

Reviewed on April 11, 2009

A connection indeed. Very interesting food for thought. Be well, Kathy

Reviewed by H Cruz

Colorful metaphores; no cliche here

Reviewed by Gene Williamson

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.
-gene.

Reviewed by Mary Lacey Desertrat

Natasha,

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

Mary

Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan

in the end--the truth is told!

Reviewed by Regis Auffray

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

Natasha,
I like the take here and the strong perspective, challenging and worthwhile.
John