We’ve been swinging on the tail end of time,
And it all started so many moons ago, creatures,
Products of hair gel, tight clothes, and guitar riffs.
We raped the floors of abandoned stone walls
With lies, vomit, with anything between us, and lust.
Our recollections didn’t clutch where we came from,
Only the names of our adopted fathers: Morrison & Lennon.
We clung to the night like nicotine on curtains,
Hibernating deep in the fabric, blending, like sheep.
Each strand that coiled us in,
So strongly was scratched down
When distance shook us by our spines.
I couldn’t count the miles, only the days,
And mornings that I had woken unaccompanied.
There was no moth-breath, no end-of-the-day love.
I climbed trees, crossed screaming oceans,
Pretended in font, and withered each breath
To find this home a prison and this heart a different shape.
He kept the threads, tightly bound to his wrists
(those) barely pumping, evaporating rivers
He lived without numbers or names,
Replaced our mornings, replaced our nights
With hellish, foreign scents, and razor hips.
Speaking to the moon, Turkish fog, myopic change
The only truth was dented in the souls of his shoes,
And the writing on that mattress.
When we managed to shake free of distance
We had moved history, created our own
But each kiss felt like fifteen year old lips
And every word left an impression
Bigger than the damage of two years
Our Saturday nights are orange light glows
And we’ve been swinging on the tail end of time.
Author notes
Option: Losing someone you love,
I'm not sure it's finished.
A contest entry
- Lost Love by Dancing Feather.
500 points, ended March 10, 2007, 35 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Your silence is not appreciated!
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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*each kiss felt like fifeteen year old lips* does everyone know that sensation?I love how you worded something I thought was un-nameable ,and the mix of images of being young and then ancient myths x
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awesome, dude.
i think i'm gonna' add you to my list of favorites. i was reading some of your other stuff, and like what i see.
peace,
j -
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Thank you very much. I enjoy your name. It's a good album, not as good as the firsts though.
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What are your favorite DCFC songs?
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405 (acoustic)
steadier footing
we laugh indoors
soul meets body
pictures in an exhibition
mmm.
and you remind me of home, a solo song from Ben. -
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i'll have to check em out. i've heard a few of em.
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Anotherbullet must be on crack or something. This piece is filled with too many filler words. You mention two great writers and if you were actually related to them (adopted or not) you wouldn't have as many filler words that you actually do have.
You, yourself, are correct: this isn't complete. Your metaphors are strenient — "Was strongly was scratched down" — should be punctuation in that, perhaps an em dash.
"And mornings that I had waken up unaccompanied." — "waken up" I would suggest "awoken " or "'woken" — "up" isn't needed". (filler word)
I could go on and on, but, poor me has to go to work.
The storyline and imagery is good, but, this needs quite a lot of work — in my opinion.
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Where've you been?!
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Pretty good. Well done.
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I absolutely love this. There are so many wonderfully original descriptions:
We raped the floors of abandoned stone walls
With lies, vomit, with anything between us, and lust.
Only the names of our adopted fathers: Morrison & Lennon.
We clung to the night like nicotine on curtains...
I really don't know what you could do to improve it--it's pretty damn perfet.
♥
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Thank you love love.
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you were descriptive from beginning to end. well, the end that i read. let me know when its finished. : ]
so far i really like it, i'm not sure what you could do to improve it. maybe make the end of each grouping, more final?
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Thank you.
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