david and the dry spells
you, my onion
are not breakable
but can be peeled
so easily,
my vision goes
with your layers
you always said to eat
more carrots
but no, I never obliged.
and even though we lack canals
some day we will spread
like dandelions,
like a whore just before christmas
with three kids
back home.
these days
are not the final solution
that pulled
at your family's hierarchy
dragging each
by the ear
testing their will of conversion.
like them you will
be strong,
your shoah takes the form
of a gutted bull
flies all around make
both of us sick
unable to keep the hallucination
of normality
staked
through the hands, the feet
and the brain
as if we floated
until our
stomachs formed into flasks.
the prognosis
was anything but holy,
damn! outsiders would sing
as we played
ribcages like xylophones
to the words
of little blood mouths
each sick and alone.
we've seen pharaohs
don themselves in artful rifles
to speak
at high priests;
the contradiction
of pain and pleasure
would wake
with us every day
in the corners of our eyes
like soft nightmares.
I'd look at you
and rub them all aside,
kiss your face
and ask some saint for a
gallon of liquid gold,
if we
are ever apart
let plaster be the beginning
of a sculpture
that echoes.
when the throat of genocide
finally opens
and six million souls flood out
we'll understand
how not to identify
letting concord prevail
as is;
symmetrical
rough
damper than the clouds
replete with impulses
and the skin
you chew from around your nails
nervously, feverishly.
one day,
you'll gnaw your fingertips right off
oblivious as
blades of grass
and the doe
that lies within
trying to recall the place
where you were worshiped
unto death
Author notes
i love you. shoah = yiddish for holocaust.
A contest entry
- favorites only;; just write. by heavenbird.
1200 points, ended November 1, 6 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
critiques are always nice
Comments
1 - 29 of 29
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oblivious as
blades of grass
god... -
i love the whore part. i think you're a genius.
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yeah this is awesome
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thanks man, how are things
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good, i just started my senior year of high school so i'm excited about getting that over with. how about you?
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senoritis is a bitch, so is high school. you'll be thrilled when it's over ha. i'm about to head back to college on the 31st...ugh so tedious yet necessary. why can't i make millions of dollars by creating a website or rapping about my crack dealing? not fair
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you totally make it unfair to everyone else who ever enters my contests.
haha.
YOU'RE SO GOOODDD.
i totally love this & you.
i can't even like copy and paste my favorite little bits.
show-off.
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"some day we will spread
like dandelions,
like a whore just before christmas
with three kids
back home."
YES. YES. i have missed this too bloody much
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you're awesome.
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i have missed your writing SO FUCKING MUCH
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"are not breakable
but can be peeled
so easily,"
Oh I like that ... how 'peeled' is sort of but not quite synonymous with 'breakable'.
"and even though we lack canals"
'canals' rolls off the tongue like ... really good pronunciation candy. Love it.
"these days
are not the final solution"
There's something so "This is not the end" about these lines that I like.
"hallucinations
of normality"
Nice.
And flasks...very wicked.
"the prognosis
was anything but holy,"
LOVE that. It sounds coldly diagnostic and matter-of-fact and the words 'prognosis' and 'holy' are just so good together.
"soft nightmares."
Fucking sick.
;
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have i told you lately that you're amazing?
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Not recently ...
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wow...
this is amazing work. No critiques, just awe.
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like a whore just before christmas
with three kids
back home.
- holy freakin wow. i love reading your poems so much, though they don't come often they come with a bang.
you left me thinking with this one.
xx
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do we take grass for granted i wonder... is it really that green on the other side?
you made my mind tick tock
well done
thanks for the great early morning read
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thank you love, i've missed you gil. i'll be around to your page in a bit...hope all is well
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S1- well fucking brilliant...what an opening!!!
S2- The gutted bull image...WOW!!!
S3- the prognosis
was anything but holy,...Dropped my jaw here
S4- I'd look at you
and rub them all aside,
kiss your face
and ask some saint for a
gallon of liquid gold,
if we
are ever apart
let plaster be the beginning
of a sculpture
that echoes.
when the throat of genocide
finally opens
and six million souls flood out...I could quote this entire stanza...but this part...freaking great ...Hell yeah!!!
S5- Worshiped unto death...magnificent ending...
Once again
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you are so amazing becky
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there's that imagery I always envy
oblivious as blades of grass
lovely
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thank you jan, i hope all is well. now prepare to be
'd
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some day we will spread
like dandelions,
like a whore just before christmas
with three kids
back home.
that is a brilliant line.
in the corners of our eyes
like soft nightmares.
i love the use of soft.
it's an interesting way to describe a nightmare, but it works.
really good poetry.
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hey it's so great to see you here, missed you
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you haven't been posting in so long, i've wondered about yah. glad to see you're still amazing as ever.
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Long time, no write... and this was a fitting return. the ongoing theme of religion and destruction made it captivating. very beautiful.
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thank you so much
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!!
"some day we will spread
like dandelions,
like a whore just before christmas"
That was my favourite part, poetic and clever I enjoyed this in its entirety though. It was thoroughly captivating and I don't think I blinked from beginning to end.
Good to see you here!
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i missed you allllleeeeeeeccceeeee
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I missed you toooo and your writing! Much! You should not stay away so long
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