Open Poetry #49 |
Snowflake |
RedStoneEB Senior Member
since 2003-06-08
Posts 772uk |
Isn’t it funny how the kindest minds’ seem destroyed by starvation, not the type that requires the hysterical to eat in fast paced actions-- of forking in the waste that will release’ nor seeing that they have become second nature'd. Forgetting how to expand, explore, be uncertain’ too ashamed to step out their mental doors’ into the burning streets of ancient lore-- for when we look around, the past is written in the walls’ they like machinery serving no purpose’ but maintaining what it is that is set within them. While I speak of kindest minds’ those that see the staggering lumps of masses piling up in need’ help me! help me! through the hallucinating stares of eyes seeing nothing more than themselves’ once helped they go on their way patched like clockwork dolls, mended by illuminated logic-- but knowing verse does not make one a scholar’ for once the verse has done its course and another verse required the mind shall suffer more and what universities will they travel to, what obscene little corner of a darkened shadow will they tread within, to obtain another dose-- fill me up, take me in, lace up the mind as if it were a arm on crack’ left in with the cool eyes staring into the dirt’ but seeing heaven. And thoughts fill with intense thoughts of angels soaring inverted down into the piles of grasping hands wanting a piece of heavenly token’ listening to them plead with fires in their belly for hunger is on their tongues’ these rotten minds so ripened they've burst the seams’ you see them! you've seen them! them, take a stroll to the place where reductions are placed how their fling themselves like bison's to the promised land-- where all but is green and full of plenty’ and see them scatter like rats’ unseen into the cracks and holes and narrow gaps, into the feeders, into the corners, into the shadows never really going anywhere but that place of solitude. They mutter laying motionless in a world of fluid time and passing-- yet there is movement in the minds leaping forth into that space that sought’ why, why, why... isn't that on the lips pressed against the roof of the mouth drying up any hopes and replacing them in fears, if not fear then stillness, trying to blind that which is the human-self-- trying to tear out the feelings whilst the vibrations of want roars across the surface as if a drop of water returning to the puddle spreading out to greet its missed companions’ and to see the sun is like a warmth of contempt saying this is what it was to feel, this is the traffic light on amber, for we never really reach out to green, always stopping on red. The voices stirring from the bed, to the streets, to another head. Passing jargon speaking of the weather, speaking of the time, speaking of the many things that rhyme and do not rhyme, just the need to talk and talk of nothing, just the need to be continuously chatting, about a pain, about another, about the objects that litter the places like garbage tossed into a neat pile-- cracking along the edges the mind pours its jukebox of songs ready to sing’ for we always seem to find our voice when broken, skipping, charred and alive for pain brings it out in us, to scream! and shout and bash the walls! break me more! break me more!!! take what little is left of me. escapism as a snowflake waiting to melt. |
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© Copyright 2015 Lee Hepworth - All Rights Reserved | |||
devina Member Elite
since 1999-10-28
Posts 3539Cali |
Escapism, defined. and deeply at that This piece sunk me in somber throughout, you have penned some really, really great lines! Escapism is a mental diversion that I completely relate to. Enjoyed this! ~d Open arms can be the most fragile in the world... |
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AmyMichelle Junior Member Posts 21 Charlotte, NC |
"cracking along the edges the mind pours its jukebox of songs ready to sing’ for we always seem to find our voice when broken, skipping, charred and alive for pain brings it out in us, to scream" Where do I even begin with this piece of writing? Such deep emotional thinking behind this...felt every word. I picked the above lines as they stood out the most for me. Pain can do many things. Above all it can make us find a strength we never knew we had. Really loved this piece! True love always waits. |
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