I wear black because I am Jim Morrison,
and when I speak of pineapples and tornadoes and torn-apples
I am fawned over by Barbie dolls who didn’t know they were living in a rock concert.
In their eye sockets are black marbles and when I look deep enough into them
I become a mirror and they can see the meaning of pine-adoes and torn-apples.
I wear black because I fear mirrors become stones and
I am not one who sits as a peacock’s wife sits in December at dusk.
I am one who slips into shadows and dances with them,
but with them only,
and when a man asks why the wall is eating the hors d’oeuvres
a white-haired wasp will sting him on the cheek and say
He is not a wall, he is a shadow
and he will wobble away with his wooden legs and even though I am not a shadow
I melt into the wall and watch them dance.
I wear black because I am a phoenix, a crow, a sniper.
I am a phoenix because I am reborn from the ashes of dead singers
and with new-sprouted wings I search for my prey.
I am a crow because I still fly hidden in shadows and if you look closely enough
on sickly, rotting walls, my flapping makes it appear that I am dancing.
I am a sniper because if you look even closer you will see that my crosshairs are on you and you will feel them then, like a fog whisper on your cheek that stings like a wasp.
I will not strike, but the knowing, the very knowing of it….
I wear black because I am afraid of what I know
like I am afraid of what that black maple tree has done to me
on this moonless midnight when I lost myself while thinking of your crosshairs.
I know that I can not discern what is maple, what is blood and what is shadow.
I know that when I was a mirror I looked into another mirror
and saw a crow with black marble eyes.
I know that when I flew amongst the shadows I saw a peacock’s wife and I envied her.
I know that I have used the word ‘pine-ado’ in a sentence.
I wear black because I am dying.
I know that when I had you in my sights I wanted you to sting me on my cheek even though I am not Jim Morrison.
I wear black because I am dead.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
-
Pine-ados are amazing.
I still can't cope with the birdy-stanza.
You inspire me.
-
The vision of a crow with black marble eyes is stunning. I got goose flesh when I read it. I shiver now as I re-read. So many tributes to JM, this is one of the best.
-
Interesting indeed. It drew me along just waiting to see what else you came up with for the color black. This was a very good write thank your for sharing.
-
What a truly beautiful sharing of your heart, my friend! Very nicely done! You words are fantastic and such a joy to read. Your pen never fails you. I truly enjoyed the ride you took me on with this. May the wind always be behind you! the message comes through loud and clear. excellent write! Beautifully worded and your emotions just spilled into your pen througout! I loved your tender flowing words. It flowed like the sweet songs of birds. Your words were completely beautiful!
-
Good...
I really like it. It all related very well, and flowed nicely. You work kind of carries you through it, building nice momentum. One suggestion, for this part...
"and when I speak of pineapples and tornadoes and torn-apples
I am fawned over by Barbie dolls who didn’t know they were living in a rock concert.
In their eye sockets are black marbles and when I look deep enough into them
I become a mirror and they can see the meaning of pine-adoes and torn-apples."
My thought: you have torn-apples at the first and last quoted line. But, you have split up pineapples and tornadoes for the last quoted line. (I love Pine-ado, by the way!) You might want to try crabapples instead of torn-apples for the first line. I think it would bring some continuity. But that's just me.... All in all Great job!
-
this was interesting, it has a very gripping feel to it, one feels caught up in the lines, totally drenched and immersed in this black, one even wonders if one really ever lived in light or the actuality of our existence is just this black.
i definitely felt caught up in your crosshairs while reading this
“i ma one who slips into shadows and dances with them
but with them only
i am a phoenix because i am reborn from the ashes of dead singers
i am a sniper because if you look even closer you will se that my crosshairs are on you”
I liked it
-
Imagery very real with a nice concept. Captivating and a unique flow. Message and presentation well written solid and powerful. Really good expression a pleasure to read. Thanks for sharing this.
~Snappy~
-
Hi , interesting write, black to some like the ancient Egyptians meant life as black was the colour of the rich silt left after the flooding of the Nile, in fact Osiris is painted often with black skin, I liked this very much , very interesting, all the best,Di
-
Nice
I really enjoyed this piece. It has a very haunting feel to it. My favorite lines were:
I wear black because I am afraid of what I know
like I am afraid of what that black maple tree has done to me
on this moonless midnight when I lost myself while thinking of your crosshairs.
Nice Work. Keep It Up
-
the poetry works well here
and the image of black takes on many meanings and sybolizes a way of living and death...
the images range from philosophic ideals to ordinary things
mirrors crows and strange bee stings
words drenched in rhetorical shadows
and lyrical and gauzy things
and so it is ...all in black
-
I really liked this. A very intriguing write. The title drew me in and the lines kept me here! Much props and keep pennin!
Adding your comment:
1 - 11 of 11
