my sickness grows from a love turned sour
my spirit is naked and frost biten in an artic wind
snow blind love blind heart blind
my love is selfish
my love is not even tangible
jesus, what am I talking about?
am I ranting at the wind again?
as spiders crawl my legs
like they own me
as crumbs fall and pile on the floor
as the neighbours hammer on the wall
there is not much to say.
there is only a kind of stirring
of the pot. flicking the words about.
making something out of nothing.
memories…memories…memoriess
they’ll do!
then the thought of that thirty year old woman
as i seduce the woman she seduces me
(don’t tell her husband)
the heat of the passion was so mad
we just left our minds at the door
and welcomed our bodies into bed!
time cries in the rain
love makes warm lentil soup
memories build houses
eyes scrath out the bad images
the pearls in the shell rust
the diamonds loose there edge
that ending is brilliant for the digital world. this is the first time…besides maybe DEB, where someone played visual trick like that in this forum. i emphasize like that. that
I love this poem. It is beautiful, and very well written. I think it is one of my favorites now. I particularly liked “time cries in the rain” - (there is no adequate Emoticon to use for what I felt/feel when I read that - now that’s poetry). I also loved, “the pearls in the shell rust”, jesus you make me sad buddy boy.
And you know this piece is certainly publishable, that is as soon as you correct line 27, scrath. Are we really just one letter away from perfection?
I’ll tell you quite frankly, it is when I read work such as this, that I must raise the bar for myself.
(for some reason I feel like you’ve posted this poem earlier, and simply reposted it now. Is that true? I get this feeling a bit often, but I wanted to ask anyway).
