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That sense of disease is spreading again, dripping slowly from the faucets of vitality, oozing diligent over melting surfaces, resembling worms eating at apples. That disease which is fault in the mind, oh that mother of deciet and maker of the vines; which snarl around this testtube of a cranium, how easily she makes us slip the divine. But across the ragged shores of time, she speaks outwardly abiding no hesitation to crime; Her appearance is lost in a wave, a grain of sand... She calls to us luring us deep into her subconcious, oh ode to those amorous actions kept secretly seductive; that seductive poison she lets leak stirring us mad, into our own little cauldruns, boiling us mad. To shake and somehow break those bounds instilled causing an earthly early death, making us wish for the last breath- Mother, the mind, I bequeath thee set us free. |
Great ! .... i really do love the Imagery in this poem ... the 1st stanza is my fav part was ...oozing diligent over melting surfaces, resembling worms eating at apples. now that is poetry... its so clear and viviD like seeing threw running water ...i put this on my fav list ... good write ... bloodstone | Posted on 2009-08-13 00:00:00 | by Bloodstone | [ Reply to This ] | i get what this is about, but then again i don't. the way that it is worded didn't really make sense to me. it seemed like a bunch of imcomplete words forming an incomplete thought, like: "that seductive poison she lets leak stirring us mad, into our own little cauldruns, boiling us mad." what does that really mean? it doesn't really make sense the way that it is worded. and the metaphors that are used are kind of weak and cliché. "testtube of a cranium" and "worms eating at apples" just seem kind of corny and take away from the seriousness of the whole piece. i don't know, it just didn't do anything for me. | | Posted on 2007-09-28 00:00:00 | by maquiladora | [ Reply to This ] | |