Asphalt buckles, Dust flakes soar high. Toast crust peels, In sun kiln light. Our ash catacombs. Our new homes. Heat funnel wraps us with love. Wax cities and streets weep Onto civilian rubber palms. Their flesh pastry baked Until golden brown. Open windows smile at armies of flames. Fountain water boils aluminum dolphins. Our wide pupils beg For acid rains. They never come. Our dry tongues entwine For the last time. Embraced in scorched arms Until our skin thaws. Charred trunks, white leaves Hang dangerously close to us. Our ash catacombs, Our new homes. Until we rupture our lungs.
ok...what i dont understand is the severe abstractness of the words you are writing....it is the kind of writing that one veiws with their own eyes and it means only what they want it to...i just want to know as the writer, where did these words come from and what do they mean to you in particularly....
First of all, there are a lot of words that I play with, I can't generalize them all and tell you what they all mean exactly, if you have questions about specific phrases, then I could try to explain. I use "severe abstractness" simply because...I'm selfish. I am writing for myself, about things that are in my life, the way I see them. If I wanted to appeal to large masses I would probably use more cliche words, more generally accepted images etc. Yet to me that would be like faking poetry, so instead I try to pull out more unique, more personal images out of my head that to some would seem abstract. Sometimes words can stand for something, sometimes they are there to serve a purpose of creating an image which in turn creates an atmosphere that I'm shooting for. In any case, like I've said it's very hard to explain where my words come from in general.
Lunacy suspended in oblivion, inside the swirl of memories, warm and sweet, ambiguous, as time seeps down like sand. awakening. or on the contrary deep asleep. open the eyes to see a desert with lush gardens, within them meditating sirens, surrounded by orchids dreaming of ocean waves. sailing through silence, yet i can hear wind's husky voice, somewhere, whispering to the clouds, and chasing beads of sand. in vast distances, the suffocating air quivers in the view and oriental brush strokes decorate the skies as blazing sun light scorches earth. walk slowly, watch my step there up ahead, sand ruins of a fortress, and threads of smoke rise up above, the residue of dreary loneliness sinks down in my tired mind. haphazard visions interrupted by a crimson stream. it welcomes me inside, so i lie down and caught by currents my body an amoeba, floats. i close my eyes so for a moment i can see, the cosmos darkness. transfixed, its spirals carry me away. my tangled mind detached and tired of the claustrophobic life denies the fact but yearns for a deceit.... :: the blazing sun transforms into electric light and pale walls were once the sky :: …my world oh warmth and memories all spent. illusions vanish in the desert sand.
Mouthful of tacks. Don't flinch or you'll swallow Your own bitter pill of pride. Wouldn't want to choke now, As you gurgle, spit out your liquid spite. Scavenging, to pick at dried slices Of my conscience. Circle, hover above me. I like your attention, Of any kind. Clever, Pitch fork armed, Split tongue and glassy eyed. I'd take your steam for passion, Than your blank, frost bitten mind. My aorta is widening, You're so desirable, Cloaked in a pretense tyranny. Casting your black winged wrath Upon me. Casting blame boulders from your shoulders Onto mine. This cacophonous life, Is tingling our spines. You're my phlegmatic, My cataleptic one. I tickle the underbelly of your ego To see you squint, engage in verbal violence. I'd rather be in your shouting cascade Than trapped behind your wall of silence. Or pull a right nerve string, Trigger your belligerence, But I'll take anything, Except for your indifference.
Day’s perilous ascend, Onto evening’s scaffold. Night is my guillotine And morning is my coffin. Yet drowsy loneliness resuscitated For me again. Woke up marooned, Inside an island room. Oasis mattress Brought mock comfort. Sightless sun is stuck in smog. Overclouds overload my throat. My arms slink in the creases, Through ruffled topography. Morning regurgitates scenery Pasted flakes on window panes. Attire remnants shed so eagerly Dried leaves, littered dunes. Slipped off the bed precipice, unwillingly. Just to inhale desert frost of news… Gnawed on fingernails, Bit the chapped lips, Clawed for an aperture Through the fractured furniture. My ringing nerves, Awaiting midnight calls. One name on the mind. Your voice is on the line. Blue sparks shot as electric shock, Kiss the cables, Dress in wires. Hearing, listening, breathing easily. Not hanging up Long after you trail off... Long after... We trail off...
If this was a few weeks ago, or a few weeks in the future I'd probably cry!! But as it is - good write. I get it and like it a lot. *winks* Reckon I'll show R....he's been feeling guilty after reading all mine, so adding yours to the mix will make him feel real bad!! Tee hee
*chuckles* Yeah I know what you mean, I've actually compiled all my poems about my guy and sent them to him. I don't quite know how he felt about them, guilty or not but he said he liked them!
Sun dial iris, Eased into mocha sky. Wool over the vigil. Soiled tomes Wax sheets Heavy burgundy drapes. Phantasm sighs. Catalyst of sights, In pipe smoke and dust. Reminisced about the myths When darkness sprinkled sedatives. Resurrected Hieronymus dream Sober slips down the conscious slope. The mortal clasps cascade of coins While the black hoofs of deuce, Clomp down the corridor, In fish stockings, with nicotine of vice. Drought of pigmentation Perspiration deluged the temples. Eyelids glued to brows. Strigoi hunt the miser in his reverie. Owl eyes watched the prey. Convalescence sheer rarity, When the verve is drained. From cracks in windows and ceiling. Swarmed in puffs and sounds Imps jumped on shoulders. Licked the ankles, cracked the elbows. Stomping on the wretch, As he tried to bite their tails. Throw a crucifix, to poke the socket eye. They dodged, shrieked, snickered, Then crawled back into the house pores. To wait out, till the next night.
my views on your poems may be different from all these other ppl....but i like all these poems.....keep writin
Thank you. It's so gooood when other people read your stuff and reply, no matter what the comment but of course the compliments are sweet.
I can’t peel you off my jeans. They’ve become old and torn, So I had to patch them up, With a token, ribbons of your skin. I carefully tied your graying hairs together That I patiently collected from the bed, To make a firm thread. Then while you were sleeping, I tenderly grated your back for fabric. I can’t peel you off my body. You’re like a rain soaked dress Sticking to the twists and turns of my torso. Adhesive to the touch, I surrender to your startling squeezes. Even when I'm fully clothed I feel exposed before you. And I want to shed the baggage, the weight, And instead adorn myself with your frame. I can’t peel you off my mind. Whether in bright day light Or in black coffee night. While sleeping or traveling, Attending chores or routine duties, My inner sight seeks out snapshots, Fixates and zooms in, Like a casual paparazzi Tracing your steps in my thoughts. I can’t peel you off my heart. I’ve cried through some nights, Worrying myself nauseous, Till the hazy walls encased me to sleep. And I will loyally wait for the time, When my mundane life, Will easily peel away, And I’ll see you, locked in my view, Standing in the middle of an airport crowd, Fervently searching for me.
-sigh- i like that. I think you can take out a few words here and there, and I'm stumbling over "I carefully tied together your graying hairs" so maybe consider flipping it around to "I carefully tied your graying hairs together"??? Lovely work though, reflective and almost desperate, nice
(sighs) ain't love grand? Somehow, this line touched me the most. Am I correct in guessing that you're waiting for the time when this person will seek you out the way you've been seeking him out?
~* I love elemental poetry and this is an interwoven tapestry. The perspective shifts from cosmos to ameoba seems to stem from either meditation or ceremonial magic ... Long to see more particles merging blissfully into infinity imagery. Thanks for sharing.
If in fits of loathing, I self mutilated. If I was impulsive, Would you be impatient. If my presence meant constant humiliation, If I proved to be useless, defective. If I could not offer instant gratification. Would you grow weary of my moody bouts. Would I become your blister, If my temper flared and I ran my mouth. And if I nagged about distance, But if I was the one to blame. Would you pity my weakness And would you still love me the same?
Well that's partially correct. I'm more waiting for the time when the circumstances will allow us to both seek each other out, if that makes sense.
Sketched moon in the smudged ink sky. Slowly zoomed out. Up and out. Until the city became a stenciled grey silhouette. Now further and faster away from the origin. Passing other, warped outlines of skyscrapers. Surrounded by a pale mist of a blue chilling desert. And nothingness. Suffocating emptiness. And a humming silence. Somewhere at the depth of the horizon On the edge of the desolate, alien landscape. Rewinding. Penetrating time, distance and visions. Stopping. Curious glass bubble dome bursts. I tilt my head and wake up in tears.
<And nothingness. Suffocating emptiness. And a humming silence. Somewhere at the depth of the horizon On the edge of the desolate, alien landscape.> These are my favorite lines here. Gotta admit though that for this one, I was at a loss for what's goin on. The last line evokes a nice haunting emotion but I can't connect it to anything else. Still, you paint nice images and you've got a good flow going on.
