I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men….
I'm due to fall in love again.
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For guest Maureen angelina
If you check out Mz Parker's author page here at Oldpoetry (click on her name) you will find details of some of her many books and also a link to help you in your search for a copy for yourself.
Oldpoetry Reserach Team
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Self doubt, self hatred even, then, at the very end, the why "I'm due to fall in love again". Beautifully crafted.
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Dead on honest assessments.Melted with humor.She weaves a fine thread of facts weather true or not in this.I adore the lady's soured chasm.
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Another one of my favorite Dorothy Parker's, I hate that i know this feeling. Such a well formed poem. Typically Parker, with a great build-up and then the knife point. Gotta love it
Ladie
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