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Teen Poetry #5
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Separation (revised repost) (poem in 3 parts)
| Teen Poetry #5 |
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Separation (revised repost) (poem in 3 parts) |
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Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA 
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*** Life will one day return to normal. There's nothing that time can't tame, and her name, on the page of the daily journal, will dissolve on the fiery tongue of the flame. Somehow, I'll have to adjust and forget her. Love is neither eternal nor constant. We've parted. I'm sure that it's all for the better. Her features will fade with the russet sunset. Why do I lie to myself? It's never that easy. My head is tolling like a church bell tower. Colliding with trees, I'm coughing and wheezing, and so far it's been only a half an hour. The onlookers watch, not daring to help me... Give me some room, I'm a raging elephant! Don't you hear how my soul is yelping, gripping the bars of the trembling skeleton? Don't you see how I'm stumbling, sad and wearied, with the weight of affection around my ankle? Clearly, it's love... clearly it's love that has me this mangled. I no longer believe in the power of calendars, time is no medicine for separation, and hours scatter around like scavengers eating, eating away my patience. I must have a fever, I'm shaking and quivering, Talking to myself, conversing out loud. Isn't that her crawling across the ceiling? hanging up overhead like a dismal cloud? I'm hallucinating, I cannot escape her... Leave me alone, don't you see I'm grieving? Her smile appears on the face of my neighbor. She mocks me and whispers to me, "Good evening." People, wherever I turn, she appears to follow. On every face, I seem to notice her grimace. Everywhere that I look, I can see her shadow. Look, up there! up in the sky, she shimmers... *** Look at the sunrays, people! Those are her fingers, veering. I am almost ready to leap now toward her from the roof of my building. Look how the sun is crashing on the blade of the glowing horizon! People, I'm stoned by this passion, I am lost in light of her eyes now! On the fork of a thousand roads, drunk with the smell of the pines, I wander and hang my sorrowful notes on the nerves of the telephone lines. Hello? Answer me! Anybody? What can extinguish my love's scorching flame? Every night, waiting for her, I cram my body into the window frame. You, who've had a lot to cope with, whose lives have long turned sour and dire, know that the doors of my ribcage are always open, come and sit by the fire! Do you hear the thunder of my whisper? That is my soul on the stage of my tongue. People, I need her, I miss her! In her absence, my body is wrung... These walls box me in. Feeling lonely, like a snake, on the mattress, I coil and depression collapses upon me like six feet of the graveyard soil. Burdened by the weight of the silence, I recall from the past, gasping, and abruptly, two overcast eyelids shut at once with a bang of a casket. But even in dreams, her vision, appears in the night and remains... and gently, her brief apparition, I catch with the net of my veins. *** Though this bliss may appear unending, both, the night and the dream must cease. She is grinning at me, enchanting, as she vanishes into the mist... The gray beard of the mist fills the alley, raindrops beat on the drum of my window. Autumn mimics my sweet melancholy and transforms itself into winter. Homeless winds sing from under the bridges, as the morning embraces the land. There, I ramble, feeding the pigeons out of the palm of my hand... Once more, I am one with the landscape. Like the valley, I'm covered with frost. Like the shivering branches, my hands shake. Like the trees, I am standing exposed. Have you noticed your son, Mother Nature? In you sight, I still wander perplexed. Separated from love, I am raging, Is it true that the spring will come next? Dejected, I've looked high and low, tread the Milky Way searching for answers, lost my way in the winding snow, now I stray here, homeless and senseless. Here, I drift with the winds as I cast my eyes to the skies, starless and bottomless, I can change! Let me sweep the debris of the past under the carpets of puddles. Goodness, I pray you, I have to see her! I cannot go on any further without her! I've poured my soul into the cold receiver,-- Listen to me! I cannot love any louder! Listen... listen, up there! Do you hear me?! You, angels, hovering up above me, do not lie to me, tell me sincerely, could she possibly learn to love me? Check out my poetry here: |
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| © Copyright 2001 Andrey Kneller - All Rights Reserved | |||
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keoni Senior Member
since 2000-10-16
Posts 850Up in the mountains in the NFC |
All 3 of these poems are really good.Great imagery and use of words in all 3. The first poem was my favorite though Jon "Your anger is a gift"-Rage Against The Machine |
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DarkAngelOfTheStars Member
since 2001-04-21
Posts 255 |
I like the last part the best.....i think you did very well...keep writing  You know you 've completely descended into madness when the matter of shampoo has ascended to philosophical heights |
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anonymousfemale Member Elite
since 2000-02-02
Posts 2797Limbo |
I am speechless. It doesn't happen often to be proud.  These three pieces, or one very large piece, has blown me away. The rhyme scheme you had happening was truly unique. Imagery was very well done and this now has me sort of floating. Yay...feeling floaty is good.  Normally you amaze me with whatever you write but this would have to be one of the best pieces I have read from you. Thanks for sharing this and remember to reply as well as post! ~AF~ I'm a little teapot, short and stout! Here is my handle, here is my spout. *toot toot* |
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Fading Away
since 2001-03-14
Posts 3131Lynchburg, Virginia |
Wowsers.. this is a long one. But worth the read... I didn't really see the revised parts reading the other one.. but I enjoyed this. You're an awesome writer.. you have lots of talent. This is definitely a piece to be proud of. --Marie If going to church makes you a Christian, then sitting in a garage makes you a car. |
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