Twenty two and nine months
A gulping tyrant wave
Washing me up
Into the coffee I sip amongst colleagues
Razor lights shard the impending November morning,
The bare trees are painted in kohl.
Time subtly translates life to obscurity.
Leaving only tampered images
She is slow and methodical in her work
Un weaving three and one year of you and me.
No longer can I be the vacant bystander,
Inert; longingly transfixed upon her movements.
I take out your carefully carved china doll face
and briefly evoke my indulgence.
How I acquainted myself with it
By tracing my nose over its contours,
Your chocolate silk hair never bored my finger tips;
I still smell it, taste it, recall it; mellifluous.
Twenty two and nine months.
You refuse to depart me.
Time grows faint;
She becomes weary,
Converting you into poignant impressions
Haunting my torn mentality.
Pale and crinkled;
Scattered blemishes adorn her;
Relentlessly trying to plaster memories
into the cracks that you left.
Her work too protracted
For me to sense advancement.
I see you fighting with her.
Resurrecting what she dismantles.
I am a Russian doll.
With you housed inside me.
I remove the top layer
There you are,
Completed by jovial nonchalant countenance;
A wonky smile laces a gaudy pun.
In a land of ruins
Amongst battered street of crumbled buildings
You are an oblivious tycoon.
Perpetually wreaking havoc with my psyche.
As I smile wearily to greet the doorman,
You are twelve feet tall,
Casting monumental shadows over
The commuters and the cars.
Creating the dusty hue of the November morning,
Upstaging autumn in his tracks.
My finger nails claw your legs.
Crimson dents and scrapes are ladders I climb.
Scrambling and chafing I fall down.
I never reach the top or climb over the other side.
I’d like to reduce you to portions
So I can swallow;
Like a hyena in famine
I grab you in my jaw and tear you to rubble.
Feeling your blood bursting forth with mire
Like stagnant summer fruits
Corroding in the frosty undergrowth.
Their rancid juices make me gag and disgorge.
Like a hairball
You suffocate me
Before I cast you back to the world.
A child re born,
You are resurrected.
Unable to pay for my sins.
Relentlessly broken.
Too many parts to replenish the whole.
You are ingredients,
Baking yourself together again.
Crumpled, scattered paper boy,
Stuck together with glue.
Crumbling burnt bake cookie man,
Too coal and charred to chew.
Decadent degradation,
In the hum of a cloud of flies.
The parasites mull over you,
They shriek and they stamp
While they break you to nothing
Though you remain in my dwelling.
I round up armies of violent thoughts,
Then command them to chase you away
With Fiery torches and pitch folks.
They are firing blinding shots into the dawning February sky;
I had to watch it until the light crawled through:
Before I could sleep again.
You remain anesthetized,
Buoyant and refined
As our first and last words.
Unharmed and un warned;
Immune to the blaze of scorn I throw.
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Fantastic
I love long poems such as this.
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Greetings, twentysecond. I've read the poem through three times and marvel at the rich, lush potpourri of images, one atop the other, an avalanche of language and feelings. Plainly said, I like it, although I can't quite get my mind around its meaning or its focus. But that's not a negative criticism at all - some poems are almost prosey clear, appealing to a reader's mind; some are balanced between clarity and feeling; and some simply reach solely into deep emotional sense. For me, yours does the last. It's loaded with a sense of wanting someone, being pulled in by that someone, but that someone remains frustratingly distant: "Though you remain in my dwelling. / I round up armies of violent thoughts, / Then command them to chase you away..."
Mentally, I continued to be confused by the personas here: the "you", "I" and "she"; couldn't quite separate them - but that doesn't seem to matter: the poem has power; it seems to paint up a total image of longing and ultimate rejection. I especially loved that 7th stanza, a set-piece that easily stands on its own as a poetic jewel.
The poem is so appealing to me that I wish its focus and different personas could be clearer; and yet the overall feeling I get is of a turbulent relationship, now here, now there, and the poet's final, frustrated "scorn" she "throws." Strong writing! Although I was puzzled, I felt immersed in its atmosphere.
Lad -
I enjoyed it.
Reminds me of my poem I posted on here.. "Fifty and Two"
Coincidence, or did it serve as inspiration?
Anyhow, it was a joy to read.
I applaud you. -
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Thanks for reading and commenting on my poem, I actually wrote it before I even joined this site so have never read your poem. I read "Fifty and Two" just now and I agree there are some quite hefty similarities but it can only be a coincidence
thanks again for the response!
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I am not quite sure I'm interpreting this correctly. In any case, it is masterful. You have written a very powerful piece here. The last line of verse two and the third verse really captured my attention, and the rest of the verses clearly build on those feelings. Verse 7 is fascinating, and the rest of the piece is closely tied to it, very much an extension of what your experience is. Your word choice is the kind that slaps you in the face with its longing, harshness and almost self-anger. It is really an amazing piece of writing. What can I say? It knocked me out. I think it's outstanding, even if I'm not completely sure what it's about. That just makes it all the more intriguing. FANTASTIC. Absolutely amazing write. Great Job.
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
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Thank you so much for reading my poem and for the comments you left, I'm trying very hard to get back into writing again after I gave up on it about a year ago, I wanted to put something out there to see if it was any good and your comment made me feel alot happier and more assured about my poem, so thank you!
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Oh wow this is truly a very creaitve write. I love your lanuguage choice and the grammar to me is spot on
This just had my attention from word one to the very last word, so very well done on your part
I dont want to try and interupt it but rather say it was just so powerful
Cindy
language: 4, rhythm: 4, subject: 4, tone: 4, form: 4.
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Thank you so for reading and commenting on my poem, your response made me feel really good. Was the first thing I have been able to write in months because I have been having such terrible writers block. Thanks again for reading!
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