a stark nameless longing that fills this burning sky
calloused regrets dissolving into the sun
the way you disappeared into the heat
a distance between two halves
waves lifting off the ground
distorting in the eye of a mirage
the open nerve that blends in so well
an aching that tortures when forgotten
it was her standing there amongst the thorns
thorns that puncture and wound
excreting a poisonous knowledge
infected with transitory reason
disseminating a relentless scrutiny
I waited for the air to turn into wine
to flood my lungs with intoxication
I would gladly hurl myself into the abyss of not knowing
if I could kill my conscience
I waited for the air to turn into wine
to flood my lungs with intoxication
I would gladly hurl myself into the abyss of not knowing
if I could kill my conscience
1 comment:
Hello Ben.
Thank you for leaving your calling card. Your poem snags my rapt attention. Understanding can be even more desolate than incomprehension.
You are an intriguing poet. If you'd like to visit or join an online poetry "community," this one is quite tempting:
http://www.splashhall.org/poetry_forums/index.php
I'm champagne_shoes there. Your presence would be exciting.
fondly,
v
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