When gazing out to the city at night,
and every star we wish on is a street lamp;
when our fallen bodies make angels in cement instead of snow,
and there are two,
two more hours
until three more hours
until sunrise...
as each angel we prayed to with frostbitten fingers
was falling like the snow
finally cleansing the earth
with heaven-purged sins...
and there were four,
four eyes that met through a darkness
so thick it was hard to breathe,
or maybe that was just the way we ran
as though by running we could escape the world...
and there were five,
five frigid fingers gripped tightly,
but it only made them colder,
holding on to the last lucky penny
even though we spent all our chances long ago...
Could you see right that night?
So dizzy that the streets crumbled with each spin
mistaking headlights for heaven
so we prayed to road signs that told us to stop,
or maybe we were just keeping our hands warm...
when the nights were long enough to measure in miles,
like the miles I walked every waking moment,
just to see the moonlight catch in the curtains of
the window that saw everything
beside your bed.
Six miles for six faked smiles
and seven times I wished I could say something
a little different,
this time.
And it was eight as the digits glowed so brightly burning
and I was only made this way to die this way
as nine lives counted down.
Down ten flights of stairs to spill upon the
empty sidewalk that pitied no one
and for once I looked on the sky...
and as the eleventh hour fell fast
I realized our hell was right here,
where it took years to know
that snow was really white and
not gray...
In a list
All I can say is that I hope you like it...
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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fucking amazing.
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Genius
So much incorporation of life's detail was put into your beautiful verse, that it makes even the greatest of societies thinkers re-ponder what truth really is. Masterfully you describe through the dying art of rhetoric, all the concepts that define our world as it is. In the mind's ever-lasting quest to connect the physical and subconscious levels of existence, your poem and individual thought have pushed the collective memory of man one step closer to the ultimate truth in life. Well done, and I can only hope to read more pieces of Genius from you.
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Yes, this works. The obsessive/compulsive counting as the world ends is very effective.
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omydear
goergous. i started to cry. i like the form with the numbers and your ability to count and... ahh i love this peice. i love love love love it.
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Excellent
A very fine write, indeed. You expressed your thoughts quite well. Thanks for sharing this one with us.
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It's like you are counting down to hitting the sidewalk...like you are having your whole life flash before your consciouness. Like in your last moments, you can actually say what's right on your mind, without having to deal with it afterwards.
Your work just leaves me wondering.
E-M
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great stuff!
descriptive & compelling!
love the counting (very OCD), and the comparision of nature to the urban jungle.
another great write!!! -
3xBravo
"when there are two
two more hours until three
hours until sunrise."...this game of words and meanings has a splendid effect!
"As each angel we prayed to
with frostbitten fingers
was falling;
falling like the snow finally
cleansing the earth with heaven-purged sins."...what a stanza!!!your style is devouring!
"Six miles for six faked smiles and
seven times I wished I could say something
a little different, this time."...amazing flow in here!
This is one of my favourite poems of yours upon my word!!!AMAZING!
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i love it
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Loved the numbering throughout even though I'm not especially fond when you repeated the numbers at times like...
"when there are two
two more hours until three
hours until sunrise."
Also, I agree wth gaya that this part could be improved. Maybe use the number two for the two angels and something else for three. Just a suggestion.
Otherwise, there are some wonderful images in this. Good job!
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Never seen anything quite like it.
This piece is unbelievable. It is evasive in some ways, and rich in description. There are so many intertwining thoughts and ideas, about the loss of nature and the death of angels. I like the use of numbers throughout. Some of the lines just resonate very strongly with me, such as "Six miles for six faked smiles" and "So we prayed to road signs/That told us to stop."
The only rough spot I see is the last three lines of the first stanza.
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I really liked this poem. I'm no great critic so I couldn't tell you why, but I found the way you counted very effective. I also like the way it's more narrative than a poem poem if you see what I mean? Good luck in the contest
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