Fireflies and nightengales hover overhead.
Softly swirling dreams of rapture,
as I dance with the dead,
laughing with me,
crashing with me,
calling out my name.
Pointing fingers,
staring eyes,
and those who cast the blame,
are looking at me,
laughing at me,
accusing me of all.
Angels fallen,
fleshly wings
brushing past my face,
singing songs of forgotten gods,
I hear the hallowed call.
Am I the only sane man standing?
I don't believe in truth.
All abandoned,
in relevance,
the values of my youth.
I wish that I
could touch the sky,
and see beyond the grave.
But my eyes are empty, like my words,
and to flesh I am a slave.
A contest entry
- Without the words by Envelope.
4200 points, ended April 3, 2008, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
Building on the past
I notice in the comments that someone seemed to feel that you used burdened analogies that have already been abused. Perhaps? Yet let's rethink this for a moment. If one is to capture a picture of someone who has experienced enough life to reach the point that is created in this write, they would be forced to create that experience from the experiences of themselves and those who came before them. This is the winding down of a soul, not a new creation of ingenuity by the very nature of the work. If the writer doesn't believe in truth how can he or she be sure that those over used phrases ever existed in any other moment than this one. All I am saying is that you painted a picture of lost faith..., faith in what? Where faith is abandoned there is not only nothing new, there is nothing used or old, there is only, ...nothing. Just a thought. I would be interested if you would take the time to review, "Fade" by me and see if you find the same over worked words your commentor threw at you. This piece made the hair on my arms stand up and that is pretty how I judge a work. By the way, thanks for your words on Babel. Go to any bar and try this, the cocktail of lines will be amazing. RC
-
-
Thank you for your thoughtful comments. I'm reminded of the novel "Perfume" by Patrick Susskind, which is so richly intertextual that it begs the question of whether anything is truly 'original', especially in terms of artistice expression. I'm going to go check out "Fade" right now. Later.
S
-
-
eh, there were a few things that held this back from greatness in my eyes, a few too often seen lines sullied it for me, "touching the sky" "angels fallen" nothing too new there. The rhyme worked well, and the emotional depth was obvious, so kudos on that, but the presentation was lacking. Thanks a lot for entering and good luck
-
-
I agree with your evaluation wholeheartedly, and appreciate the critical analysis. This was not my best effort.
-
-
Again you hold such deep meaning in here!! We are all slaves to the flesh in different ways... some fleshly desires, others crippling disease, still others crippling thoughts... all of these lead us to torturous thoughts.
I absolutely related to:
All abandoned,
in relevance,
the values of my youth.
Felt this write!!
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
