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(In Dreams)
| Dark Poetry #3 |
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(In Dreams) |
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Syneq Junior Member
since 2002-07-28
Posts 40 |
I apologize for the length of this one ahead of time. The dream that inspired this one seemed to last for years. I would appreciate any critical feedback from this one. IN DREAMS I. this is my asylum glass stained from blood, scarred from the inside liquidated aggression encased in bruises hues of reds and purples flood through the razor-thin cracks in the glass seeping into the foundation like a disease isolation sweeps through the air drifting like the distant smoke of a funeral pyre within my asylum, solitude is redefined all light transcends into memory the black sands of time lie suspended in mid-air tangled amidst primordial spirals my conscious state sealed within six stained glass plates my subconsciousness set loose into an abyss a never-ending empty vision no horizons, cloudless, void of emotions a hollow case for my being cicatrix of used flesh encasing frail bones a weak heart forces the blood flow slow and sporadic it’s beat, thundering within the silence a subliminal pattern for life to imitate it’s only accompaniment, the incomprehensible neuro-babble vocal intrusions fade in and out without warning…without control imprisonment within imprisonment walls upon walls no means nor motivation to escape no doors to exit this vile existence no window to view possibilities no hands to comfort me this asylum is real to me my soul can taste its desperate and hopeless tranquillity bitter stinging my throat sending my spirit into violent convulsions my poison, a peaceful disturbance one can grow accustomed to the things one cannot change adaptation a bleak account of history a bed of ashes compiled of every piece of my being that has been torn away every jagged remembrance forms another malformation another notch within my skull none are allowed access none have wished to accomplish entry into this pit inevitably a fingertip’s grace out of reach if a child shouts in the dark and no one is listening do they make a sound? Yet one has passed through that which I cannot vacate II. I feel his eyes peering into me visions caress his thoughts pierce my leathery flesh and flow through my bloodstream steady and rhythmic into my mind where two become one interlaced in equilibrium passing from awareness into slumber soaking into my dreams like a tranquil drug face to face in dreams, his touch ruptures every wall every cell crumbles to dust, the stained glass shatters suspended in an endless labyrinth of pitch his touch lingers remnants still flow down my spine he walks within my mind the blanket of air that travels behind him brings warmth to this cold skin gentle winds engulf me bringing forth content and chasing the demons from my side from my head his voice echoes through my entire being silencing my neurosis and my inconstant heart ‘til all that is left is his song, his heart thundering through me like a violent storm of reason retuning, harmonizing mine to his enveloped in synchronicity his being seeps through my soul vaporous flooding me with all possible emotions simultaneously recreating every sensual moment ever obtained his body released from mine through tears from this pool of joy and regret he rises as smoke, drifting towards the sky fluid and ethereal he materializes in front of me more real than any pain or delight ever in my experience every piece of him remains in me every part of my mind, body, heart and soul can still feel him can still feel him coursing through me he stands still and patient like stone a statuette of spiritual perfection silent before me I yearn for his embrace I feel his soul calling to me, teasing me with subtle glances every lust within me being held at bay with all control imaginable every desire awakened within me his body is motionless, but inside resides more power than any war more fury than any battle could ever hope to obtain more strength than that of infinite armies only causing my longing for him to increase III. I am humbled before him unworthy of his embrace I lower my head and bury my gaze into the blood-soaked floor for fear that my touch will obliterate him what love could a rag doll offer him? he who could melt my apprehension and disintegrate my scars what could I give him of myself that would not turn him to ice? I of scarred flesh, hollowed soul, shattered heart I who have laid in ashes of my own creation I who have condemned myself to isolation within this asylum I fear his touch no matter how much my heart desires it serpents that writhe within my soul await to strike at him to bite the hand that heals he who could cure all my wounds with one graceful caress the screams buried in the back of my mind would deafen him if given the chance he, the only one who listens the chaos inside my heart would sear his eyes, blackened within my dreams, my demons are at rest within my dreams, I am at peace for he is there but these mental apparitions are not my reality my reality is this sanatorium my bruises, my blood, my scars he is the cure and I am the disease he is the only one pure of heart that walks in this realm I am the one who would abolish him I break that which I cannot care for everything I love dies what have I done to deserve his healing, his heart? his entirety is without my affliction untouched by my desperate and foul caress unscathed by my infectious embrace I am that of diseased soul and ailing mind of tarnished heart and scarred flesh what beauty lies in me? I cannot wash away this flesh only he can do that but if we touch, he will wither and decay he will become the sweetest ash of my collection he is my purification and I am his demise he is my sanity and I am his discord if I could erode my sin and impurity I would give him my all I would shatter this cell and let the light in once again a flame that burns brighter and hotter the yearning I hold for him I would free my mind from neurosis and engage him in every dream and every waking moment, always I would piece together my heart and offer it to him full of love eternal sacrifice and everlasting faithfulness I would give him my body, unscarred, pure interlacing or flesh in violent lust I would expel the disease and chase the serpents from my soul so that I can envelop him within my being and redefine existence but I cannot what withers away inside me could destroy him when given the option I choose to let my sanity slowly rip me apart rather than to pass it on to another to watch in terror as it lacerates the whole of their existence like a predator I will rot in my asylum and leave him at grace Out of respect and love, I cannot beset him with my concept of love what my heart desires and what I deserve are separate things IV. I can still see him his touch still lingers his eyes still pierce through this scarred flesh but as the light, this transcends in memories a remembrance of love not yet grasped as I stare at these blood-soaked walls painted with bruises, stained by tears drowning in my discord and choking on the chaos I step outside myself to watch the insanity consume me from the inside out to bear witness as my demons feast upon my being all tension and anguish begins to fade within this chaos there is peace there is a state of absolute tranquillity and realization an end to my imprisonment at last I am released from this cell content to draw my last breath knowing he is untouched by this decrepit flesh this hollowed heart did not engulf him the serpents did not strike he is still powerful an army within itself and I am at last at rest ~Syneq Disintegrated to materialize in reformed delight. |
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| © Copyright 2002 Syneq - All Rights Reserved | |||
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wranx Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689Moved from a shack to a barn |
Syneq, I'm gonna have to get back to this, like what I've read so far, but tired. Catch it later. Ya know? Longer pieces might be better in prose. Folks that go there are expecting a longish piece. Just a thought. ~wranx The shortest distance between two points... |
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EveGnosis Member
since 2002-02-21
Posts 300New York, USA |
wranx's suggestions are well put, as sometimes it is difficult to get responses to such lenghts in this particular forum. however, this "intermezzio of my life in four parts" was very emotionally written, and thus easily emotionally read. A cynic's requiem, if you will. thanks for opening up. |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
If you put this in prose it'll only get moved to a poetry forum by the mods there  You could also cross-post this to Critical Analysis for some critical responses... I will try to find the time to critique it - my time is pushed however, but I will keep it in mind. Suffice to say, on first glance, the intensity is admirable and so is some of the imagery... my one general suggestion - long poems need to be tight, simply because they are long and there is the extra need to hold a reader. Less is more even within a poem of length - maybe you could look at some lines that might be slightly repetitive, pare it down a little - hone the impact you want..  K |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
Syneq, I'm with Severn on this one. Long pieces work if you're writing The Wasteland or The Odyssey. This ain't those, though I admire yr fearlessness at attempting this. I'm gonna -- gasp -- critique!!! Put on your helmet and pads. There is a lot of adjectives and wordiness here that you will do better without. A lot of things read prettily, but don't add to the image, or restate what has already been said. In a poem of this length, I suggest you keep the images as simple and flowing as possible, so people will read it all the way through to the end. Also -- punctuation. I had trouble sometimes figuring out where one thought ended and the next began, because there is no "mark" defining where a stanza ends and the next one begins. Other than that, you have some great imagery, and powerful ideas. Just take it down from the rapid-fire spray of a machine gun, to the more honed, notched edge of a broadsword. You're gettin' there. Feel free to repost what you come up with. I, for one, would love to read th' results. And, if you have any other questions/comments, feel free to e-mail me! Mikey Said if I only could ... |
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Syneq Junior Member
since 2002-07-28
Posts 40 |
Thanks for the critiques all. I get a little caught up in metaphors that I forget to just spit it out. I also lack the ability to add punctuation when I write, because it is all one continuous thought. I didn't put the pen down until this thought was done, so it lacks alot. I will probably repost it, but in four separate parts. Thanks again. Syneq Disintegrated to materialize in reformed delight. |
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