I wrote a poem called sulphuric certainty
that you have yet to read
but it is for you.
It charts our charged confessions,
in fact our whole collected catastrophe
and, upon reading it once more,
it makes me cry so hard inside
that I can feel my lungs drowning
in an acid bath of screams,
streaming tears, eroding fragile
shorelines of existential exile;
spitting me onto an island remnant, that sits
in everyone else’s ocean
except ours.
That poem hangs my soul out on taut wires
slicing thin the Swiss cheese of my heart
and laying each sliver neat
on glass sheets
between one shrivelled ear of Vincent Van Gogh,
and the silver suicide of Sylvia Plath.
My pride stripped bare for clinical analysis
by prying ghosts and passing strangers
serving only to substantiate my living death
and nothing more;
but at worse ~
much less.
My corpulent words copulate with
what I see of you when I close my pregnant eyes
and dream to where I hold on to you
as though you are my hot innards
and where I can cry with you for hours
enveloped in the redolent churns
of our immaculate steam.
And yet, amidst the poetry and paintings,
languishes that intangible horror
of unpronounceable love
split down to nought but fractured atoms
and unfathomable circumstance,
destroying every beat of my blood
in the tortuous supernova that is
the fucking bitch
of all its hell.
And to say that I love you?
Well,
that doesn’t even come close.
Author notes
Option 8: Unrequited Love by Emerald Dog. ♥♥
You may care to read my poem 'sulphuric certainty' (http://allpoetry.com/poem/4560031) as it is the prequel to this piece and will help with context. There are several other pieces on my pages linked to these works, including 2 sonnets, a recent one about a particular kiss and 'Ruckles'. There's nothing like a bared soul to blow your mind away and screw the rest of your life up.
In a list
A contest entry
- Why are you crying, sweetheart? by Red Rocket.
1000 points, ended September 7, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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ahhh i cant connect to the other poem!
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wow...
i have to go read the prequel!!! love it!
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fucking A
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fuckin' H
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you are so good at creating lines that will be fastened to my brain for the next week. i want to dissect your mind and find what it is that lets you write such phenomenal pieces.
and the last lines are just penetrating.
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THis was really well done. It was classy and reality. I love the ending. It ws a very teen spoken to me. It sounds like rock like lyrics to a rock songs. YEAH YOU GO GURRRRRL
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WOW...this is some powerfull, painfully brillant writing. Your imagery and with metaphors weave in and around each other amaingly. Your language, vocabulally and articulation show amazingly diverse talent for writing on many levels and in many forms. This is by far up there on the list of some of your best...unfortunately the subject matter does not lend itself to feeling very good about the praise you should feel from this piece of supurb poetry. I'm sorry for your pain and feel the piercing stab of it written within your words.
Be well until next time.
Shelly -
I have to agree with Cinnary! THANKS FOR SHARING MY FRIEND!!
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" There's nothing like a bared soul to blow your mind away and screw the rest of your up."
this is poetry
indeed, yes, indeed
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My goodness, the background is wonderful...I love how it works along with your words. The poem itself caouldn't be improved even if your tried, you truly have something going here, such a deep down love (but "love"...the understatement of the year) it was magnificent...pure poetic bliss. Good luck, and I with you the best
♥Rhiannon
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No, but is not joy the ultimate dynamic of love or is it sacrifice. And If sacrifice, what kind is it. The ready and willing kind that joyously plunges into the stream to save a drowning love, For is it not a gift, to perish in the ernest effort to save what burns at the center of your life. Is it the kind that believes that love requires and altar for the heart to be laid up and a knife placed in the had of your lover. As she pierces the heart and the blood becomes a fountain joining hers then and only then is love consumated. Mmmm wonder wonder who, who the book of love? Most of all I know my love is less dramatic and not as good a read by the fire. Mine is full of joy and sharing and supportiing in growth. Resonably good boundries and privacy while i am joyous for here success. We are not co-dependent and we are not each others favorite drug, the need we feel is out of comittment not addiction.
Dug the poem. Read it from end to end. I wasn't bored and it held my attention. Hard to do most days around here. Language and images conscise and well presented. I never felt lost in your poem. Even when I had questions to ask my sense was I would find my answers in your piece. All this shows great skill and craftmanship. I respect that. My agreement and understanding a booby prize.
Peace & light,
Tom B.
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First off I just loved this background. It goes wonderfully with this poem. Also, your imagery is wonderful. You do use a lot of "big words" so I had to do some looking up. But that's okay as I always like learning new words. I really enjoyed reading this. Good job
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I love this poem. The imagery in it is so rich and detailed, especially the second stanza. I've never heard Sylvia Plath's suicide described as "silver" before, and it's at once surprising and refreshing.
Your word choices are alluring. You use a lot of words that high school students would call SAT vocabulary, and in a lot of poems I have read that are brimming with multisyllabic words, the words themselves get in the way of the poem's meaning. But you manage to balance them in just the right way, and the words enhance your poem. It sounds deep and rich and complicated with emotions.
You make me jealous. I wish I could write poems so well.
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