the shivers, of euphoric lungs,
on the dry glass sky
heave like final smiles, healed
by nothing's hand, which props it's own veins
against the sharpened light of dusk.
Pasentol breaks the air in stutters
shovling his bones in gathered waste piles
track-marking a dimming earth
In a half-mast commute
towards dawn
lunar shadows dwell in
pissed, pity-soaked repose
above the pure white of a scalp
escaping nothing, on the whim
of a summer breeze alone.
When there is no more globe to scale
he settles into dust piles
and howling rings
which we mistake for the wind
The coward is empty space and
yesterday is home to it's memory
and to Pasentol, both of whom
we've left behind.
A contest entry
- inspiration en masse. by unraveled.
800 points, ended March 18, 2008, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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very pwerfull the write seems to mean something
**kat -
wow
barren described in abundance; very powerful write
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The poet has penned five stanzas that amazingly work well together yet each may also stand in it's own right individually, it's very impressive and something the reader has been unable to achieve. The third stanza hits with the full force of impact, the imagery of the lost soul searching for solace within the bottle and finding he escapes from nothing and is left chasing nothing, with nothing to to chase. Especially liked the line " heaved like final smiles" Bravo!
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