From a rooftop in the faltering shades of darkness, I could reminisce on moments that made up the life experience I collected like spare change. The fumes of a freshly extinguished cigarette had dissipated, but the scent still lingered on my breath and stained my fingers.
I racked my brain, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when I became as self-corrupting as the nicotine dissolving in my veins, but all I found was a vault of hastily repressed thoughts and a settling sense of melancholy. I watched the progression of so called maturity which seemed more like a circulation of habits and addictions than a growth in understanding.
I used to carry a thin pipe in my right pocket when I left my house, in search of happiness and philosophy, as fleeting as the evasive glimmer of dreams. Eventually I exchanged it for a condom and lacy lingerie, fumbling into a different path of hedonism. But in self-reflection, my reforms stand as ineffective in finding joys I crave as the hours which slipped by in a blur of motion and asphyxiation. Time continued to pass my eyes unnoticed and unappreciated... the onyx sky, encrusted with a spatter of stars and planets and the invisible spectrum of their physics: all this was lost to the raging tempest of my mind.
Author notes
oltre 22/100
A contest entry
- In process of judging. by Viva La Vie Boheme.
700 points, ended June 10, 2008, 16 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I like your prose. Perhaps you would consider entering some in my prose contest? You are brilliant with imagery.
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Not much to analyse? Are you kidding? I'm gonna have fun with this one.
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Remove the author note - please?
This is a wealth of material for analysis. It paints a scene so well, casts the contrasts of moments and, while it rolls toward a conclusion, it doesn't tell the reader the answer. It does what all good writing should ... poses the questions. All in effective tone and structure.
Bravo.
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can't say I'm not flattered, glad i was able to inspire you really means a lot. I say you made it your own though, i never like reading or writing prose it just seems like irreverent rambling but you avoid all the nasty pitfalls associated with it. Like your usual works, it has that gentle intimacy and personality, now coupled with your exceptional descriptions and narrating. I really liked the ending, a bit abrupt and intense, great way to go out. While reading this i kinda zoned out, ot in a bad way, just had to take it all in instead of pinpointing anything, like flashes of pictures i could never make out.
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