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conception
| Open Poetry #31 |
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conception |
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Insomniac Cat Member
since 2003-09-23
Posts 69The Land of the Dadaists |
last night i hung out with the gods. i was the chameleon. none could see me, but i could see that i was behaving overtly. i was drawing all eyes and thoughts to me. i was attracting all universes to me. i like to be known for being unknown. i was camouflaged but everyone noticed. i was altered but everyone noticed. i could no longer hide. i was the pyrate. i wore the hat and the shoes. i was the worse for wear, but not worse for being there. and i was there, but i was altered, and they saw through my disguise. then up rose the devil and he offered me more, a bottle of his urine to drink if i dared. i was the pyrate, i could not refuse, i accepted his challenge. he was winning, so sore at losing, but i held it all inside, everything. i would win or die. i fought the devil for my vomit and won. i bet a gambit and a gamble. i bluffed and won because i never fought. i never fight, no more, not now, i close off myself from myself. i am a painful trinity of expression and self-expression, of promise and pain. i am sunken and hidden, irretrievable, inconceivable, inconsolable—the tragic hero. but i thought. i thought of everything. i thought up universes. i began philosophers and philosophies. i became a sage, the holy hermit with his lamp. everything congealed sharply in twos and fours. everyone and everything became a symbol. many symbols were broken that night, many melted down, many recast, many created and cast for the first time. the night we gods forged much metal. my world expanded and contracted, but yours breathed on unchanged. as i thought up universes, you thought only of going to bed. oh! suddenly everything has changed! every smoking symbol is rearranged! there’s blood everywhere! i’m drowning in a river of blood, i’m sinking in a sea of salty blood. my world is coated with this gore, and i can’t feel anything anymore. oh! Wirlsiam! there’s blood on that crystal! there’s blood on the devil’s evil crystal, on his bottle of urine, on everything! there’s blood on my hands. my blood is on everything. my blood is everything. i bleed to survive, i leech myself to stay alive. and the devil is laughing, the devil is lying, and as i bleed, the devil is sighing. |
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Grover Senior Member
since 2004-01-27
Posts 1967London, ON, Canada |
You have talent, there's no mistaking that. However, the images in this particular poem became an obstacle to me in enjoying that talent.  |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
reads a bit like you are one of those "old time" radio actors...reading the story for the audience who listens but can only imagine what it all must look like. i dont know why im drawn to read your poetry, im at a loss to explain its appeal, maybe i like a bit of "shocking" every now and then though, im interested in seeing, if you stripped away the shock, what mysteries will be uncovered. |
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aujussy wolf
since 2003-08-09
Posts 1215Michigan |
wild write , very intense ...loved it besides the pee part lol ....... |
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PassionatelyRomantic Member
since 2004-01-24
Posts 190 |
such talent! i'm in awe... |
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GOlDsparklESS Member
since 2001-12-13
Posts 428central nj |
hey, this is a cool stream of consciousness... vividly executed "Do not run toward pain, but do not run from it, either. Pain is what guides a person in every serious undertaking. Unless an aching longing and pas |
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