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Open Poetry #47
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icebox
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383
in the shadows

0 posted 2011-02-14 07:12 AM




The sky is pink this dawn,
a fitting start I think,
too realized,
the very air we breathe
will batter it to blue
in just a few degrees,
maybe this color is diluted
from startled threads of ache
still flashing red
reflected
from deep inside my brain,
as if raw color by itself
is trying to explode my head;
when I was young
I used to think I mattered in the world,
and would look for portents,
omens,
any day's predictors
scattered at each dawn
like reading tea leaves for tomorrow
or puzzling over entrails
drawn out from a day gone by,
a day I may have sacrificed
to stand upon its bones
to reach the sky,
or at least to grasp the fetal edge
of yet another day.

No more do I share prophecies,
except as party tricks
and as guidance for fools
who think it helps if they die rich;
I squandered energy
the way the sun consumes itself,
the way I redistributed wealth
in my own private sort of class war
never realizing
there would come a time
when I would have not
more than all I have.

Today is Saint Valentine's festival of foolishness.
Valentine the pagan,
Valentine the pederast,
Valentine the twisted monk
drawing imagery in sacred texts
that almost had him burned alive,
and today we carve it into candy
as we strive to weave seduction
into one of pride's little acquisitions,
little murders of the soul;

Valentine,
I am so glad your stylized heart
doesn't look like mine;
I've seen the images in stone
carved by hands long turned to dust
before you were compelled
by holy orders to adjust the meaning
of your scratches and atone
for your own petty soft abominations.
You must have lived more than once,
and needed time beyond one life,
to resolve agonies of soul
that plagued your thoughts
and left us with this very strange holiday
of sorts and fantasies
that supports candy stores and jewelers,
and caves where Hallmark cards
are sold like dispensations
to hopeful masses wishing for redemption,
for living
in a world where skies can turn to blue.

©2008, 2010, 2011 by icebox





  




© Copyright 2011 icebox - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2011-02-14 09:15 AM


Thanks for bringing a good read back, Ice.




Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115
South Africa
2 posted 2011-02-14 10:42 AM


A timeless poem indeed, dear icy!  Cynical perhaps but so true.
Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
3 posted 2011-02-14 12:23 PM


Hi there....demonstrations of love should happen whenever felt, not on one day decided on in such a way.  I always enjoy your reposts.
serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

4 posted 2011-02-14 02:28 PM


Heh.

"Why don't we just accept us for what we are? I needed a ride and you needed company. Our relationship was and is based on mutual usary, and pretending that it's something else because of a date on a calendar is the very thing that depressed the *stuff* outta me..."

Scenes from Suburbia

Thanks for spearheading my reality check.

   And is it a reality check if I have to say that every expletive year???


nakdthoughts
Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200
Between the Lines
5 posted 2011-02-14 03:40 PM


"when I was young
I used to think I mattered in the world"

sighing at such truth~~

M

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