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eidolon/bogle

 

disheveled white
you are the captured
tatter

little girl in
the picture coat
taking trauma for
a walk

counting lemons
on the lawn you are
a burdened segment
of the times
we've grown to
cry spittle on
our chins

oh darling
why do the
flowers grow
so high into
the sun

mother why
is your fortress
so dirty with facets
of manifested
waste


i could say a
million
years

I am not tender with
kindness and the
bracing nature of freedom

father is a washed
face

speckled melancholic with
skull fractured love

doesn't u n derstand
doesn't always

like the alien
dream light
through the window

i've got trails my
shoes won't follow

in the wooded vacant
lot

in the wooded
empty hole


i am missing from
the picture

i am missing from the picture

opened up

the light
shone
in opened
up the light
shone in
i hear
chattering

the smell of
broken teeth
and brown skin

i melt
i've melted so
many times before

i got a control of
lost and



and momma

I am your monster
born

a sallow creature
of your fixture love

a tired lamp living
on the shelf

i am no boundaries

i am no love
but what I am

I am no love but
what I am

I am no
I am no
I am no

nothing but
a fractured skull

murmurs decadent in
the backdrop

soundscapes related
to facial expressions
i cannot keep


i've grown
to be so colorful

the taste of salt
on skin

bitter in
my senses

bitter in
my box of
unknown shapes

tell me

do you
hear the
paper sing

or have I gone
deaf again

tell me

where have
the

hours
gone

so much of my childhood
a misfit memory of loss

Author notes

a chance to let the mind roam free. to let the
poet in me, the perfectionist not worry.

the drawing/scribble above the poem inspired the poem.

A contest entry

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
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Comments

1 - 15 of 15

  • miss midnight
    June 27, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    "taking trauma for
    a walk"

    ohgod
    i love that line
    &
    "i've got trails my
    shoes won't follow'


    this poem has left me amazed.


  • TerrifiedSky silver member
    June 16, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    mother why
    is your fortress
    so dirty with facets
    of manifested
    waste


    This may have just been an experience, but I find this a very, moving piece. This, shows that innocence isn't an option for some. Sometimes, we're never given that chance to be reliant and fragile. Some of us will always be tainted and damaged.

    i've got trails my
    shoes won't follow

    Shame seems to be a growing thing for me. Shame in myself and what I'm incapable of doing. This poem, hit a lot of open wounds for me, a constant bleeding that oozes from the soul like mucus from a toddler. I know, that not everyone gets it, and even my perception is likely to be far off, but this poem is so full of pain. It's so easy to mask that pain, but somehow, sometime, it all finds release. I like the chaotic nature of your thoughts. It's like bringing yourself to the edge a thousand times over, before finally taking that final plunge.

    so much of my childhood
    a misfit memory of loss

    Some memories, are better left buried in the seedy pool of decaying flesh and afterthoughts. Indeed, powerful in the eyes of the fallen.

    Much love,
    Jessica


  • Kalima
    May 29, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    That was the saddest poem I read. But amazingly written. You did a really great write. Keep it up!
    Stacey


  • panegyric ink
    May 1, 2007
    Edit | Reply

    not a sur prise that you were awardd gold!!!

    i love the carthas is you have written intp this!!!!!
    very publishalee in manyways. for me, i would have to say this is brilliant and realdrwn fromtrue life experiences. genuine.

    Take care and i hope today was agood one for you and that tomorow willl bee ven better!!!

    brian


    • slaughter
      May 1, 2007
      Edit | Reply
      Thanks so much for the comment brian, I'm glad you enjoyed the poem so much.

      Have a wonderful evening.


  • April Renee
    April 15, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    again, the opening stanza hooked me. it seems chaotic. i may or may not have noticed some extremely insane word play in there. i say that because it may not be word play i may just be slow. i can't really pull together a comment. so much in there i can't really bring it tgoether. i dont know. very interesting. original - wouldnt it just suck if it wasn't.

    i enjoyed reading & the thoughts that came from it.

    blu

    • slaughter
      May 1, 2007
      Edit | Reply
      I didn't remember getting this comment, but just found it. This was written in one sitting, so it comes as no surprise to me that it is so chaotic, especially because I didn't monitor my thoughts throughout. They came as they came.

      It's not my favorite piece I've posted on here, since this isn't how I write, but I do enjoy seeing what can bud from experimentation.

      Thanks for commenting.

  • etrangere
    July 13, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    Sometimes words don't say enough.

  • more like war
    July 9, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    I liked this very much. I was just browsing through random bits of your poetry and came across this. I think I sat with furrowed brows the whole time. Because it was confusing, and yet very intriguing at the same time. I was trying hard to figure out, a lot of the time, what exactly you were talking about. I like your tendency to relate unrelated things to each other, to form them together until the reader actually began to believe they were the same, and that everything, in thought, could be the same. I liked the subject also, or else, what I perceived to be the subject. It seemed to hit quite close to home for me.


  • Blkwidow77 silver member
    May 17, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    Glad you found it of some interest. And congrats on the Gold. You most certainly earned it! ^^-^^

  • slaughter
    May 17, 2006
    Edit | Reply

    I'm sorry it took so long for me to get back to you. I've been thinking about your comment for awhile and I really love your interpretations. You took the ideas I laid down and worked with them like clay, forming your own conclusions.

    Thank you so much for taking the time to sit down and really get under my pieces skin.

    It's much appreciated.

    - Kenneth

  • slaughter
    May 7, 2006
    Edit | Reply

    Dear, if I was in your place I would be doing the same thing. I nitpick everything, so if you want to have a little break and comment on something different of mine, that you can actually critique, feel free. I love feedback and it would allow you to separate yourself from the sludge of unedited poetry, if only for a brief moment. Thanks for the comment.

    - Kenneth


  • Annalise
    May 7, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    Tip-toeing behind her (Blkwidow77) is her co-host... who is a bit upset that her hands are tied on commenting about word choices and all that happy horse... well, you know.

    I've left so many of the same comment that I'm starting to feel like a fake... or a parrot. I would normally find things in which I prefer... or that could use a bit of work, but the contest kind of forbids that sort of stuff. I'm lost without my revisions!

    I do think, though, that what came about from that picture is quite interesting (I'm really starting to hate that word). I like it. You do seem to do this quite well.

  • Blkwidow77 silver member
    April 30, 2006
    Edit | Reply
    Ah, Hello again. Sorry it has taken me so long to work my way back here, but I really have to be in the right mood, with some time on my hands, to do one of these kinds of reviews. And lately, my life has not allowed for it. But you should not feel forgotten, as you were not. But if I didn't say it before, welcome to my contest. It is good to see you here. Though, from what I understand from our previous conversation, you are naturally good at this sort of thing. I believe it too.

    As for reviewing this, despite you being part of the Lead Pipe Cruelty group as well, and knowing you're capable of taking an honest review and opinion for whatever it's worth... I will be unable to critique that way. I feel that given the nature of the write, the writer's choice of word, meter and flow become untouchable in this particular instance. So, what I have decided to do instead, is express what I what I see of you in the picture. Then I will do similar with the poem. I hope that is agreeable to you, but beyond that, I see no other option. Just keep in mind, these are just my observations. And accurate or not, you may take them for what they're worth, or disregard them, if you do not find them useful.

    But let's get started anyhow. So thanx for including your picture. I actually was suprised by it. I'm not sure what I was expecting from people, but I have been startled time and again. I think that's great, I like people exceeding my expectations in express.

    There were two dominant things I picked up from looking at your drawing. First, that it shows a massive amount of control and self restraint. You have lines and lines of curved line that arch one right after another, creating oval sequences... that seemed closed off. There really aren't open ends. It means you're a secretive person on a general whole. Your inner feelings and thoughts are considered highly personal and not shared with the general population. This is further backed up, by the flat space of color that is horizontal across the page. It's like a layer of skin, the protection of the outer world from the inner one. This seems even more accurate, because beneath that layer, the black oval lines become thick and heavily overlapped. Those being all your really thoughts and feelings kept invisible to the outer world.

    Which brings me to my next observace, consequently. That of the color. The choice of color also struck me as heavy pained anger. The colors are dark and 'real world'. By 'real world', I mean natural. You're less likely to find neons and other strange shades in the forest, but these colors are very earthy. The heavy red seems angry. It is blood, it is self. It is heavy in its weight and exist's below the horizontal line. Further expounding on what you 'kept from outside eyes'. It seems anguished, tortured even, but that could be me projecting. So I will stop here.

    Now onto the poem. First off, interesting choice of title. The first one meaning a ghost or spector, or perhaps an image of an ideal. The second meaning a goblin or such, or object of loathing. An almost the same thing, yet more of a polarity of perception wording. Clever. Yes, I suppose it is all a matter of perspective, and tilt of mood.

    But I found it to turn out beautiful. You can hear the ticking and swoosh of thoughts let out. You did well to do as was asked, but I realize from speaking to you, you are practiced in it and it shows.

    It speaks of a reflection and regression focused on family and past circumstance. Your opening stanza seems to capture what I was saying about that strict control. As we blow through your beginning image we see a family that is not held together well, a father that shades of violent and/or abusive and you, a quiet withdrawn child, that ticks like a bomb.

    hmmm.... like it was all a matter of time, before you more resembled your father, then your mother in persona. It spills of regret, in the wording. It almost seems apologic for whatever you were to her. As if you try to explain yourself, that which you kept underneath and how you felt of what became of it all. You seemed to feel that you were very cold and stone, in your face to the world, your face to her. And it seeps of regrets. Because then you say that you are now 'colorful', in that you are learning how to open up. You speak in terms of 'too late' though, that makes me wonder if she is deceased, or you just feel beyond redemption.

    Either way, it was a fascinating piece you presented. I appreciate you stopping by~


  • Crash Into Me
    April 12, 2006
    Edit | Reply

    a-fucking-mazing!

    "i've got trails my
    shoes won't follow"

    "hours
    gone

    so much of my childhood
    a misfit memory of loss"

    brilliant mind you have.
    let it roam more often.
    i like reading what it releases.

    -alexsis

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