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Open Poetry #28
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cigarette symphony
| Open Poetry #28 |
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cigarette symphony |
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Gavin Junior Member
since 2003-06-22
Posts 47 |
Tapping, a hand, drumming fingers, A twitch, a pause, deep shallow breathes Eyes darting, palms running, sweat soaked brow, Death closing in slowly... Foot tapping, leg-bouncing hysteria, Crowds all watching, everyone single one, They all no its time to leave, and that her time is done, More rapid he approaches, a slow, sly, smirk, encroaching plastered features... Standing, waiting, nail-biting addict, And like heroin to heroines, she rises from the ash, An army of ageless, burning embers, left alone to drown in gutter, They fall and burn and melt away, the cancer wielding knives of death, now not much more than clutter, Thrown aside and left asunder, for another day and until another stash She quickly recedes back into fear, now standing alone at last, He can almost touch her, so close that the tips of fingers grace the hair the wind blows... She tries to escape, tries to move Unyielding strain of legless weight abandoned in vain, She quietly rests, watching herself run, If denial is bliss, then she wishes to be as unenlightened as the dieing sun, But gradually fading, almost to the point of tidal thrashings This impossible speed, moving at break neck nothings, but overwhelming none-the-less, Death moves in, with subtle claws, grasping untimely heaving breaths, Panic turned rage, as she rips her body from pieces, Scattered to the falls, thrown over until movement ceases, Down, down, down, to the gutter and its thesis, of cigarettes and their burning creases, it was the clutter after all, that brought the heroine from the heavens to her knees, and once again beg back for her pieces |
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| © Copyright 2003 Gavin - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Kahlil Senior Member
since 2003-04-12
Posts 1881 |
"it was the clutter after all, that brought the heroine from the heavens to her knees, and once again beg back for her pieces" Ya, this is all too true. Man, I love the way you have wordily worded this. You have, in fact, conducted a symphony out of a real life, agonizing situation. VERY artistic. Applause! ~K~ |
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Kaoru
since 2003-06-07
Posts 3892where the wild flowers grow |
I'm amazed at this piece.. K put it just right.. A symphony, indeed. |
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Gavin Junior Member
since 2003-06-22
Posts 47 |
thanks kahrou and kahlil, ya, I'm trying to break away from rhyming so much in my poems and its really opened up a whole new world for me |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
I really liked the entire piece, however this line was my favorite: "He can almost touch her, so close that the tips of fingers grace the hair the wind blows..." Susan |
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