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Open Poetry #30
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Egg
| Open Poetry #30 |
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Egg |
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Astro Member
since 2003-01-08
Posts 69Ca. |
Egg Amazing how one look becomes a Conversation. You still haven’t said a word But meditation says it all. The bitter twists of your intent Like vines, encompass and entwine Squeezing with the stings of some Imagined content. The stench is drifting in billows Plump like pillows, Wafting from each of my ears. Inside is a hard-boiled egg Packed with protein-complex Vita-regimens, A power punch to your teeth, So I can grin with the strength of Tin men. Still, you could catch the stench With a fish net; The air is so thick. I feel like I can’t breathe. I yearn for light-headedness When light is fractured into Black and yellow firecrackers And everything grows dim. I could find simplicity. Slowly, I could feel my body and soul. Toes first, then the calves, knee-caps Torso and head, On to my soul, into my heart Through all of the rage and tears I’ve built into this life. Into the times I’ve coveted God -- The adoration He receives, Wanting the world to look at me. But we measure on the metric I’m just egocentric. My chakra is made of chalk. This box is small from the outside. The reek is mine to keep. You could smell like honeysuckle But this rotten egg is powerful -- virile. Vile. I’m on to you. I want you to. Sight is an always awful beginning |
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| © Copyright 2003 Luke Austin Donatello - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
LOL, a very different type of meditation. Oh, the rotten egg smell is vile, so I won't be tossing one your way no matter how thick your hide. I much prefer night blooming jasmine, or honeysuckle. An interesting, unique write, Astro. |
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steavenr Member Elite
since 2003-11-17
Posts 4058 |
"The bitter twists of your intent Like vines, encompass and entwine Squeezing with the stings of some Imagined content." How aptly you have described the art of missed communication. Very interesting read. I think there is far more to it than a casual read affords. I will read it again. |
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Astro Member
since 2003-01-08
Posts 69Ca. |
Yah, thanks for the replies. You hit it on the head. This is about miscommunication. At the time I was feeling very hurt by the tone of someone's voice. This poem is a satire of my nuerosis, which has, at its root, naught but pride (hence wanting to be God). |
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