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Dark Poetry #3
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Golden.
| Dark Poetry #3 |
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Golden. |
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howpeculiar Member
since 2000-12-12
Posts 56 |
My life: Deceit. then the bright forcing of terrible confessions. Like a torture cleansing: water burning skin in the shower in the hell-trance following rape, scrubbing until your arms are pink and raw: thin lines of blood beading along the surface. Over and over the emotional purging, Begging for pain to cover my ordinary. If I suffer, I am different. I would give it up: the luxury affection, the spiritual stir, the imploring eyes, For intelligence. For talent. I am sick of capacity that is not genius. I am god struck dumb. I create bodies that move; writhing hearts in their center, fur creeping up their back, Who eat, sleep, and respire, Never doubting my existence or lack, or changing their needs Or baring children who question. The race never struggled forward into people who grew violence like apricots and licked the juice off their chins, smiling. Who slept with eyes sliding under their lids, jerking with dreams, and woke to discover and invent. This pack will not destroy and manipulate, dance whirling until the world is a smudge, and they fall to their knees to the grass breathing hard and happy; they will not bear joy like a lost love -- aching and real -- for beauty, for justice, for desire. I bent to breathe into them inspiration, spirit -- my mouth a holy O -- and felt the light implosion when, lungs empty, the pleading croak from my twisting tongue turned my body to dust. I am less a spirit (divine and whole) than an idea (corrupt and halved), Hunting fantasies to cover my reality. Needing twinge to coat the mediocre, to polish my commonplace until it shines, until it twists and beguiles. I call for it… Instead, my hands lay still, flat… hating. Disgust in my pupils for their failure as I watch the hosts of my design only living to survive: bodies shifting toward something less than instinct, eyes grey and flat. Ghosts without mystery, who cannot know the elapsed taste of soul. Blood and bones: blank and empty. |
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| © Copyright 2001 howpeculiar - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Isis Member Ascendant
since 1999-09-06
Posts 6296Sunny Queensland |
My God, this is a dark description of those without the true inner spirit of life, love and religion etc. Something I have been trying to portray for years, and you did it here so effortlessly and beautifully (in it's darkness). Bravo, take your bows now hon.  Isis *The heart of education is the education of the heart...* ~Isis~~Sovereign of the Spirit. |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
I have to agree with Isis - damn powerful stuff here... very very dark... The race never struggled forward into people who grew violence like apricots and licked the juice off their chins, smiling. I find that particularly chilling. I have to say it's a very good write... K Strokes of ink, words, dreams like Waking mountains make intimate conversations With my shadow From 'Words in the Night' by Jeff Geddes |
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SpitFire Member Elite
since 2000-04-19
Posts 2396 |
~I will continue to read and reread this one,...along with your last post. Both emotionally charged. Both inside of me somehow,...resting there. *Peace you. |
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firecrakker Member
since 2000-10-20
Posts 235Virginia |
wow.... I've read and re-read this several times and each time it amazes me as it tickles my brain to search deeper. The imagery, alone, has me dazzled. I am truly enjoying this one.. Sheila |
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howpeculiar Member
since 2000-12-12
Posts 56 |
Isis, First, I must say thank you for your comments: gracious and complimentary. But I also feel the need to clarify... questions prick me: were you concentrating on a description, or do you believe that the whole piece was “a dark description of those without the true inner spirit of life, love and religion”? The reason such a statement concerns me: this verse is more selfish than it seems -- describing my hate at an uninspired talent. I feel as though my body has the ability -- unspoiled and amazing -- yet my heart will not sink into the creation. So, the bodies described are not exactly people: more a primitive race of my invention that I cannot evolve, or inject with spirit. I set out to make life, and find my hands instead, have made pathetic golems, soulless animals… Severn, You’ve chosen my line of preference… Powerful? It’s egotistically satisfying to hear someone thinks such. I'm enjoying your 'dialogue' with certain anonymous members  . Good luck to both of you.SpitFire, words from you hold additional weight, I admit, because of your own work. To know these have touched you in some small form or another enhances me. firecrakker, I’m honored. May your enjoyment increase with each read. Thank you. All, Be Well. [This message has been edited by howpeculiar (edited 01-18-2001).] |
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Zyell Member
since 2000-07-28
Posts 121USA |
wow, this is intense, like I stepped into a living cell, and t0uched the visions of someone's mind....goose bump material~ (*S(* Z Life is an adventure to be experienced |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
K comes back to say...I know what you mean about egotistically fulfilling/satisfying...after all, to me - powerful means you have affected a reader...moved them beyond mere pleasure or dislike. Power evokes a reaction on an intimate level. Always a nice achievement hey? And thankyou for the other lol...  K[This message has been edited by Severn (edited 01-18-2001).] |
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