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Dark Poetry #4
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Blackness
| Dark Poetry #4 |
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Blackness |
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Mystress May Member
since 2007-10-25
Posts 296Taunton, MA 
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****BE ADVISED THAT THE FORMAT OF THIS IS ROUGH BECAUSE I AM UNSURE OF THE BEGINNING. I THINK THAT I LIKE IT AS IS AS OPPOSED TO A MORE 'STRUCTURED' FORMAT BUT I WOULD LOVE YOUR OPINIONS!*** ~~~MM~~~ There is only Blackness. And I am Nothing. I am not a person, nor am I an animal. Neither an object nor the air. I am Nothing. But how can Nothing move through Where? Wouldn’t that mean that I am SomeThing? And that the Where that I am moving through is SomeWhere? Therefore, I am SomeThing moving through SomeWhere. I am SomeOne. I do not know who I am but I know that I AM. I don’t know if I’ve never known or if I had once known and now I have forgotten. If I had never known then why have I never discovered? If I had once known, then why have I forgotten? I am SomeWhere. I do not know where this “SomeWhere” is, but it IS… and I am HERE. It is pure blackness and I am floating in it. I see nothing but Blackness. I hear no sound. Feel nothing touching the “me” that I believe I am. Try to scream but I have no voice. I have no senses. Except for that of knowing that I am. Blackness. Silence. Me. An eternity of Me in the silence of Nothing. Explosion of cacophony and color. Rushing through the blurred colors as the dissonant clamor reverberates inside of the “me” that I am. Dizzy. Emetic. The cacophonic clamor squeals to a halt. No Color. No Darkness. A dim light. Pain. Intense Pain. It’s shooting throughout my entire “me”. A Weight on top of me. The Weight belongs to that which is causing me the pain. Must get away from that which causes the pain. I struggle against the Weight. I push with all of the strength that I can summons into my “me”. I envision it coming out of My limbs, against this weight that continues to wrap its maleficent fingers around My neck. Must find a weakness in this Weight. Wetness against my finger. An unearthly noise… and unearthly scream. Grip loosens on my neck. Cool rush of air. Crack sounds beneath my fist… thick, warm liquid falling onto my face. Sight. I see that Weight which seeks to crush my existence beneath it. Red. A stream of red. Flooding down to the pale surface. The pale surface that is “me”. A flattened area in the center where once there was a nose. A bubbling mass surging from an otherwise empty cavity that once housed an eye. Screams. Where do they come from? Above me. From the Weight. One more burst of energy… of strength. Through my entire being. Against the weight. Unburdened. The Weight is off of me. That which had caused the Weight now settles… still screaming, clutching the face from which It bleeds. Run. I must run. Send message to my limbs. Move. I rise. Left foot rises and moves forward. Falls to the surface beneath. Right foot rises and moves forward. Falls to the surface beneath. Whipping my face, my eyes, my arms. Branches. I run. Light. Towards the light. Must reach the light. Whipping my face, trickle of blood. Open space. Light all around, glaring from above. An empty road leading into a desolate parking lot. Asphalt. Burning smell of fresh tar. Sound. Roaring. Car approaches. Slowly. I see a face. It is moving. Mouth moving. Sound? Sound. What does it say? It does not matter. It comes towards me slowly… arms extended. Collapse into arms… into the arms of this stranger… this Savior Darkness. I sleep. Our scars are the foundation for what we have become |
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| © Copyright 2007 Amanda M. Stonis - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Verg Member
since 2007-10-25
Posts 52Colorado |
I usually don't read long poems unless Seeker72 has wirtten them, but I read your whole thing it was just...wow. I feel out of breath from reading it. I'm glad you liked Flames.ML |
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Seeker72 Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 387Oregon USA |
Thank God I'm not the only one writing long poems. ;-) This was excellent. Loved it. |
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Mystress May Member
since 2007-10-25
Posts 296Taunton, MA |
Thanks doll! I don't write many long ones but that one started as something different and ended as that. What about the format? Should I keep the unstructured format or clean it up a bit? Our scars are the foundation for what we have become |
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The_Nameless_One Member
since 2007-01-20
Posts 165Missouri |
is this a dream because if it is that must have been very intense anyways great poem and I think you should keep it the way it is it reads nicely |
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Mystress May Member
since 2007-10-25
Posts 296Taunton, MA |
Nameless One No, not a dream. An actual experience I had of being strangled to the point that the person thought I was dead. This describes the point where I started to regain conciousness. I had actually meant it to be the prologue of an autobiography but I like it as a stand alone piece. |
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Seeker72 Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 387Oregon USA |
The only thing I think you could do would to space out the begining... unless that was a cut and paste typo. It looks a bit bunched and could be daunting to a reader that was just passing through. Other than that Brilliant. |
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Mystress May Member
since 2007-10-25
Posts 296Taunton, MA |
Seeker, Yes, I know the beginning is in rough form. I am just unsure how I want the beginning. I like the 'confused' aspect it lends to it. But perhaps there is a way to retain that and still make it more 'reader friendly'. But I have a question..... as a writer, do you think that the writing for its own sake is more important than being 'reader friendly'? I mean, I am very passionate about my words.... about words, in general. I find them to be addictive. And when I write, I write to make myself happy. I am a very selfish, self-centered person and I guess that may show in the words I choose..... but that very same self-centeredness also means that when I write, I think less of people that may read my work than I think of myself and my own opinions on a piece. I have pieces where form and structure are extremely important to ME but others where it's important NOT to have it. Does that make any sense to you at all? I'm still struggling with this piece. |
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Seeker72 Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 387Oregon USA |
Makes perfect sense to me, I have several poems/short stories that I wont put out mainly because of the inability for others to read it smoothly enough to understand what it is I'm saying. Other poems I try and stagger across the page to give the jaggered feeling of the emotions I'm trying to convey. |
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