Once again a variegated lesson
has a glamorous turn,
you wind up with
the film-noir cuffs in black and white,
and I have
the smell of an exotic thrill.
It’s never clear just when
a razor completes a cut,
you must wait for the thin red trail
of reality dripping like the midnight faucet
and the shrill vibration of nerve endings
being introduced to air
to know for sure
If
foreplay has begun
or madness has claimed another
through the matte finish of your expressive eyes
It was the darkness in you that birthed a craving
and
it was distance that closed a door.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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This is so crammed with great images and lines
-matte finish of your expressive eyes, I just loved that line, makes me think of an illusion of intimacy created by need and only realised as a false promise when its too late to untangle.
Great write-I have a feeling people will relate on many levels to this piece, which speaks volumes about the honest emotions displayed. x Peace
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An intense piece of writing and a depth of emotion here that stays with the reader. This poem is both dark and sensual and I do detect something of longing here. Loved the closing lines, Geo.
~ Nicolette
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Darkness and closed doors...
Youleft us with quite the thought of sadness. What a thing to birth a relationship. WHat a way for it to remain. Closed and unattainable. Emotionaly open and longed for. You have really opened up in your writing. You have branced remarkably from when I first read your works. I am deeply impressed Geo.
HD
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this is intense..I can't figure out if it is darkly sensual or darkly cutting...lol...either way, the ending is powerful
[I think you mean has began or begun, rather than begin?]
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WHOOOOAAAAA! What a read this one is! WOW!!! This is beyond words! Holy moly!!! I think this may be your best yet!
and love my friend
Nyetta
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Whoooaaa... I agree; those last two lines are a poem all by themselves. Intense, Scribe.
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Wow. I think this is the best poem I have read on here so far. Perfectly outlining the pretense, illusion and fantasy clouds we have when we view others.
The stages you go through where you are perfect, they are perfect and then bang! Something changes and without readjustment we toil against it and then they become ugly, and then you eventually forget, and then you make it look beautiful again in fear of failing.
I may be completely off in terms of what you were aiming for with this poem, but the above is what I got from it and I couldn't help but relate.
That last line is a killer, you could probably build a poem around that line alone.
I really enjoyed the read, thank you.
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