He spent several
nonexistent lifetimes
making everything neat;
played The Name Game
with coke and vodka,
spoke in smoke signals
and called every other month.
You could have given them both
dirty concrete blocks
to tie their legs to,
but they'd never drown.
Not in an ocean, or sea,
or a deep-bedded creek.
She held close numbers
of a vacant era,
and denied ever being
superstitious;
watched the isles
fill with people-
their DNA clinging
to every light fixture and
door knob.
His stuck to her
like ink and red lipstick.
They were never structured,
nor tied to one another;
both were inevitably never
going to agree to disagree.
Writhing, they refused
to believe in anything but their own.
every day, he would wait for her call.
And every night she would wait for his.
Author notes
I'm pretty sure his friends are saying the same exact things about me, as mine are about him.
Anything is a nuisance anymore.
(ami-friend, or army.)
A contest entry
- cutting to the chase. by coloringmysenses.
1750 points, ended November 11, 12 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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=)
This is like what i remember from you, but calmer maybe. I love the way you tie things up, i think its something at times we can almost have in common, but you pull the loop in different if that makes any sense. In fact as much as i can relate, alot of my writing deals with the frusterating wait, at least in this peice you resonated something Different, a different frequency than terrified mutterings.. I guess, from what i remember and seeing this, i think you perfectly capable of looking fate or world or god in the face and resolutly saying "F*ck off."
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Kudos.
The first verse "lies" almost as recognizable (to me) as your signature... would should I have ever seen it. The second verse was no less stellar as you twist reality into a laugh; the third verse... being ended as you chose... exudes everything poetry was ever meant to be; and the fourth brings us back to real time as a slap; the last two lines give a life you feel you've intruded upon. Altogether the whole poem absorbs like nicotine... addictive... yet strangely comforting; harsh in nature... and still you crave more. Kudos again.
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"but they'd never drown.
Not in an ocean, or sea,
or a deep-bedded creek"
--love the flow of this. This piece is sad but I feel it has a much deeper sadness hidden inside of it. I love the isles of people bit too, you're so imaginative. The ending was great, it held the piece together. The whole thing is threaded nicely and felt so bloody personal.
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It was hard to write. I'm having trouble dealing. In general. Not just with him, but yeah; he makes it more difficult, because in my mind, he should know how miserable I am and come to the rescue, like he used to do by coincidence. But things change, and the effect was coming from the cause, I just wanted to deny it. In essence, this comment just means...yeah, it's unfortunately personal. :-) Love you and your comments. Splendid I say.
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