Dark Poetry #3 |
Alright |
Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
ALRIGHT Blood of the past, how sticky, how grim, it pumps in and out of a tender new heart. Like slime it invades and sullies my soul unwelcome, unwanted, yet it still stays. What air will dispel the smell of my death as rotting I lie in a grave of back then? The coffin is gold - money tickles my toes, but my heart like a prune is wrinkled and old. No passion, no need, can life so decree a reward for my sin of being just me? I seek and I find, I ask yet I know death is alright in the dark of this life. Real is my dream, inside I believe, but winter is nigh to shiver my bones. Alone, why alone, to feel and not see my lover, my life he gave back to me. Too long in a dream, I long to be free, but bound like a tree in the earth of his being!! HMH |
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ilph Member
since 2000-07-28
Posts 78 |
cant figure out if the lover is the rot or the life here, but i do like the juxtapositioning of good and hurt. this is one to think about, but not late at night because ah will you wake up |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Oh, yes, I see what you mean. Sorry! It's "sort of like" (I quite fancy that modern phrase) if the lover doesn't become real the past will become real again which is the "rotting" part. Something like that, I guess, but it was late at night for me too. Thanks for reading. |
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