Words are the physicians of a mind diseased. ~Aeschylus

April 2016 005

 

Sight-seeing

when edges blur and stretch,

they can transform

into cannibalistic reflections…

 

rebellious bastards.

 

for you, this body is yours,

this body is mine,

this body is yours and mine.

I need to feel at home here

along side memories of thorny roses

that prick and infect the system

releasing old poisons.

I need to feel at home

inside this skin machine

languishing next to you

knowing the heat

that rises from our

communion

is a mutual in-service

a restoration, if you will,

of sacred temples re-discovered

in war torn valleys,

shuttered from holy light

battlefields where only the dead

live forever.

 

there is a place inside my mind, where winter

never ends, it is ringed with sniper towers,

and barbed wire and the sharp smell of iron

blows endlessly from the east, creating

scintillating sunsets and scandalizing silhouettes

lulling senses with a false security.

 

I never visit, I don’t call  or send flowers

there are no postcards from where I live.

faithless woman that I am

I abandon the  invisible winterlands

leaving them isolated, denuded

of my attentions and fresh meat.

 

When the edges blur, I can spot

that unseeable compound

from my front porch.

back-lit, hazy and glowing from the

forges of the sword-makers that live

in it’s frozen center.

I can tell by the orange blush that rests

lush, ripe with languor hues

along the horizon,

that they have stepped up production

over at the factory, demand is up

and the fresh smell of ancient war

mingles with floating embers of deep magenta

highlighting the past like scars

across an otherwise,

beautiful sky.

HA! 2016

*photo credit: artist currently unknown

*this poem…argh! edited now 47 bagillion times…I sheesh!  think I’m done. *

Thank you for being here today, I hope you enjoyed the work.

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P.P.S. the spoken word of this poem will be added soon as I get it right. 🙂 so, stay tuned While you wait, why not hit the logo below and go see all the art you can choose from right now.

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4 Comments

  1. LionAroundWriting
    April 21, 2016

    Great writing.
    there is a place inside my mind, where winter

    never ends, it is ringed with sniper towers,

    and barbed wire and the sharp smell of iron< loved those lines in particular 🙂

    Reply
    1. HA!
      April 21, 2016

      wow, thank you so much for the feedback, I really appreciate you. 🙂

      Reply
  2. Faith-Madgalene
    April 26, 2016

    “there is a place inside my mind, where winter
    never ends, it is ringed with sniper towers,
    and barbed wire and the sharp smell of iron
    blows endlessly from the east, creating
    scintillating sunsets and scandalizing silhouettes
    lulling senses with a false security.”

    Like the comment above, this stanza is powerful and very visual. I could relate to this poem very well.
    Well done.

    Reply
    1. HA!
      April 26, 2016

      Thank you for the feedback I really appreciate hearing what’s working in the work. 🙂 Means a lot to me. <3 HA!

      Reply

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