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Dark Poetry #3
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Civil War
| Dark Poetry #3 |
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Civil War |
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WhileIWasGone Member
since 2002-07-18
Posts 486
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A pedestrian sign's yellow lights flash incessantly, inexhaustably, insistently: "he loves you-- he doesn't love you." And far down, two stoplights, And the blinkers on a van: he loves you-- he doesn't love you." all the while, the yellow gibbous moon, playing peek-a-boo in pea soup clouds, hanging like a half-squeezed lemon slice, like the naughty below, playing nice, sinks in a dozen different tunes, and the dancing brides singing in their rooms, echoing off the concrete cliffs, and the agreeable smile and civil laughs, among the clinking of cups and crystal carafes, and the crashing of heaven and a social ladder, assailing my ears with no great matter: "he loves you-- he doesn't love you;" I'm tormented by that stop light far below, taunted by the lovers loving long and slow; I flee the tormenting blinking of the van, and on the monumental steps, a girl: "he loves you-- he doesn't love you!" And all those carafes swish filthy swill, in all this turmoil the night is still... And I've only the comfort of a thin veneer of cool confidence and that distant sneer for all this wretched, putrid filth, for all these people and all their ilk, for me and you, and the rest of us too, for the warring factions in my heart, for the indecision that tears me apart: "he loves me-- he loves me not!" Flashing in my eyelids when I close my eyes, the moon is melting in the soupy sky, like the shrinking ice in a pot of tea, like the heart of stone inside of me, like a future corpse's civil smile "Can't you see, it's a Friday night," telling me that I've lost my sight when I lack the civil sense to hide when all this sickness roils outside; And it isn't just these blinded eyes, it's not the rage of the taunting sky, or just the corpse's melting smile, I could live with the naïve and infantile dancing brides, and the singing of songs, I could deal with all these wrongs! It isn't just the scent of his scented skin sticking to the walls saying "You just can't win!" It's the rage of this internal war that incessantly regales me with all this horror of "he loves me, loves me not!" |
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| © Copyright 2002 Dea_Di_Amore - All Rights Reserved | |||
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D edgar Grey Member
since 2002-08-21
Posts 174Hell...(aka Wisconsin) |
Hmm...this piece was an interesting read. I particularly enjoyed the image of the city that was created. Beautiful descriptions! "cherry blossoms" |
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wranx Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689Moved from a shack to a barn |
H. Again you are beautiful in your write. I imagine this in a European city, for some reason. Anyway, you keep me riveted. ~Ed |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
H. I thought this was near a Starbucks. Anyway, I know what you mean, seeking signs for hope in things that ain't signs. ("if the light changes green in three seconds, it means I'll be in Calgary soon") Mike [This message has been edited by bsquirrel (09-30-2002 03:38 PM).] |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
angst...anger... hurt.. the not knowing and questioning that does indeed drive us to distraction at times. You capture the feel well...the scenes vividly... enoyed a great deal, and hope your answers do turn out to be the ones that lead you to the long and slow path..always loved. |
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WhileIWasGone Member
since 2002-07-18
Posts 486 |
Thank you for reading and the great replies... DeaDiAmore |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
a slow receiving understood escape of a building ROAR |
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