Fathoms of pontificating fixtures
float lazily throughout the mind,
speaking soft assurances
of pristine walls
that will never decay or crumble.
Puzzles pieces, written in secret codes
hold the barrier's bricks in place.
Having little holes of control
where one inserts the gods of illusion,
prayed into existence by fairy tales
shaped as small lances
to turn the confines of paranoia
into lies about immortalilty.
Tears rust shut the openings,
fallen knights go shopping
for a locksmith theologian.
Author notes
For picture option #3
A contest entry
- Image Contest by silverscent.
360 points, ended April 19, 2007, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Firstly, let me congratulate you on your diction here, it was very refreshing and intriguing to read. I think you took the idea of the image and ran with it to a place quite inspiring, and portrayed a great intensity in this write.
Thanks for entering. -
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Thank you for the great comment and for the silver in your contest.
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excellent~
Oh
This is just excellent..I love the metaphors and imagery in this poem...
Your poem is far beyond that lil brother
Best of luck in the contest...this is a winner in my book
Love n hugs
Your sis
Susan~~~
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Thank you so much sis. I'm thrilled you enjoyed it.
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'Tears rust shut the openings,
fallen knights go shopping
for a locksmith theologian'
This last stanza, the knights go shopping a locksmith...love that line! Good luck in your contest. ~Sie
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Thank you. The big hassle is not losing you armor while shopping.
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