November 3, 2011

green flame

Flicked green flame
Slow reflection
Off the unlit bulb
My eyes trace
The dimly shadowed ceiling

Or the floor

My upside down everything
Remembering how to feel
Sharpened talons
Across this pasty white skin

Pulled hairs
Contrast of love lost
I am as I was born
In screaming solitude interrupted
Only by barking dogs

Tell me
Scalpel the red cord
Don't wait

Dress in rat skins
And slip to the unknown

That man is perfect
Casting his own shadow
Against the millions of texts
Scribbled on pearled white walls
He listens to his own voice

Never changing his mind
I'm in the wrong footprints
Wishing they fit
At the top of my lungs
Counting sand grains with my back

The night puts me to sleep
Like every night
Dreams of unpast time
And suturing wounds
By the light of green flame

If only he understood
Every thing


His voice reminds me

My own tells me
Stop being the mat

The bulb shimmers
To on

1 comment: said...

I like this poem though the author made a couple mistakes. For example the he understood should be he understood but other wise it is very good.