Little child at the table
eating discord disorders
from bowls of ash
Candlelit ego burns
like dinners cooked from catastrophe
Messiahs cure lepers
with salt and chemicals
roasting life with tablespoons of obituaries
served fresh with decay
as wombs leak fluids of births
gone wrong
Spilled into test tube glasses
and over purity's apple
science and creationism
poured from jugs of mind
Underage romances fed
with ripened fruits;
grown from the
Book of Revelations
Little Child at the table
sipping napalm from straws
of bi-polar bi-sexuality
(By-gones are by-gones
with actions and reactions
consumed like bile)
Eyes forever glued to mine
in glucose and sodium
Emotions mixed into oils
and heated by fusion
[just the way stars burn]
Reincarnation hearts served
on platters; the base group
of existence
[life is worthless otherwise]
Adding sugar to wheat
perverting ideas with
toddler chemistry and
mc-Donalds unhappy meals
Metempsychosis flour
mixed and molded in the Ganges
while mayhem rises in loaves of
adolescent angst
Forgive me not's and I'm sorries
in the batter, waiting on the grave
to finish warming up
Age counts in grains of sand
between paler shades of white
and existence lost in
shadows
Swallowing seconds like
peas and carrots
digesting love and hate,
consuming life and death
while innocence leaks
into piss-sour soil
At dinner opium is consumed
to numb reality
Curing dizziness with placebo drugs,
lies to make festering pain
feel like home
Solace found in
asbestos drugs and
flesh and wine
Meals of discord apples
and dead larks
appease Polish-sausage cravings
but doesn't stop treason wars in cups
between Atlas and Judas
[death is the main course,
slaughter is dessert of
Martyrism]
God found in
ignited cigarettes,
for afterlife smokes
where karma failed to redeem
lotus and hyacinth petals
dumped into meals of
I like yous
A contest entry
- prompt inspired - closes in 3 hours by Tangled Angle.
475 points, ended August 17, 2007, 5 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - prewrites by Melissa Gayle.
400 points, ended October 9, 2007, 10 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Wow. The first stanza is amazing in itself. I comment as I read just to note, it hits very personally because dinners are staged, and ego is burning when someone else is talking. I can't guess what's going to happen with the poetry, it's shocking. I love "as wombs leak fluid of births gone wrong" because I think in that context allot of the insanity, the apple thing is another one in my head as of late how fairytales - apple, biblical - forbidden fruit. Intresting. I don't know what the Book of Revelations is honestly and I feel like there would be more impact if I did, I'll look it up and re-comment if I can remember.
You seriously shock me. "bi-polar bi-sexuality." that's like everything of the now. I bet anyone could connect to these words because they aren't vague at all but so simplified into thought that it makes sense, if that does. I love the parentaces, You're most defenitely my new favorite poet, I think you're better than Sylvia Plath and I adore her work! You have similarities with hers, if you've seen it- which you seem to have. Reading your poetry makes me nervous, as if you're going to say a code word that only I know, it's weird to hear what I think isn't sole. -
A bit long winded but excellent.
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I love this write, very well written well done
I used to have a cat called Kismet
xx -
"Candlelit ego burns
like dinners cooked from catastrophe"
Wow. Great, vivid, imagery there.
I loved it- it was so strong!
The second stanza was also very strong.
"paler shades of white"
That is a song. :]
"digesting love and hate,
consuming life and death"
Beautiful and so true.
"At dinner opium is consumed
to numb reality"
Mm. Those lines kind of confused me... I don't know if it is because I feel like there should be a comma between dinner and opium or what.
I think that I read it straight through and those two words sort of mesh together were it's supposed to be,
At dinner, Opium is consumed
Maybe? I think it sounds a little better, but that's just my opinion I suppose.
Wow.
This was great.
All of your stuff is great.
[By the way, Haven't talked to you in a while. How are you?]
I love all of the metaphors and imagery you use. I wish more people on here [in life] wrote like this.
Wonderful, stunning job!
:]
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full of metphore, this is a cliver poeme,
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Awsome poem, I dont think Id ever grab the depth of this......... I am just too simple. I had seen a comment you left somewhere and it was so good that I needed to read a poem of yours and this is it... Your page is really great and I love the music on your i-pod!
best of luck


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Wow, there is a ton of depth to this.. this is probably the deepest poem I've read of yours. And I know there is some element in some particular spots that I'm not getting-- but the general idea is quite clear. And I love how you developed the imagery, just took it step by step, theme by theme, and wrapped it up very well, perfectly in the last stanza. The allusions were effective, I had to look some of them up and needed to have you explain what they meant, lol, but they added a whole lot more poem and provoked thoughts- which helped the entire meaning come full circle better when it came to the ending. I'm also happy to see that there were only two spots where you used metaphors you've used before, otherwise everything looks new to me and that is awesome. I'm glad to see there's something new coming to your poetry now. Overall, one of your best and most interesting poems. Thanks for entering and best of luck in the contest.


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