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    dots Submission Name: the mouth of foreverdots

    Author: blackbird
    ASL Info:    31/male/reykjavik iceland
    Elite Ratio:    2.35 - 194/328/300
    Words: 363
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 594
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2586


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    dotsthe mouth of foreverdots

    sleep is the lonely begger
    creeping through the grass
    with the mouth of forever
    breathing down my neck.

    i'm singing to the tree
    & letting my blood
    be the judge
    of whatever.

    each night ,
    when my dreams seep in,
    they're haunted
    by an old friend
    that i no longer know.

    & i wonder
    when the storm of my heart
    will subside
    into the melancholy.

    where does the end come in
    when there was no beginning?
    when the wreaths of my fingers
    now hide the scars
    of my battle-anamour.

    will i repeat
    what i've lost when i speak
    when what i've spoken
    is a horrid graving?

    there is no bitter sweet
    that succeeds to heat
    the cold inside
    the inner tomb
    or to heal the wound
    that cuts away
    the bones of my religion-body.

    i unvest,
    sweep back the sheets
    & fail to pass the day
    without the thought
    that things are never as they seem
    when you are lucid.

    i'm pouring out
    into the morning,
    into the afternoon
    & into the constant night
    of my undoing.

    the pink eggs of heaven
    keep me waiting
    for some soft round compromise
    that never happened.

    i'm only closest
    to the breasts of my believers
    when i'm drowning
    in the solitude
    of my solution.

    there seems to be two ways out
    & the door that was secretly open
    calls me
    like the feather to the floorboards.
    i say my prayers
    & live in plants
    till i am shining.

    red sky,
    breathe in me
    until i am breathing
    cause i'm not sure
    if i can make it to the end.

    there are too many broken flowers
    on my tongue
    & the smell will drive
    me plenty mad.

    will the blisters of my tiny life
    forget the madness of the meadow?

    i must remember
    that death is a sweet milk
    that never lingers
    & that unlike me,
    nothing last forever.

    i will go on,
    with not-so-healthy strides,
    into the blue
    of my own existence.

    i've been called cobra twilight
    by the devils mouth.
    islands of nothing
    grow up inside me...

    Submitted on 2008-03-10 12:32:33     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      mmmmmmmm like the taste of cool water.

    like breathing in the color green.

    you never cease to inspire me.

    "there seems to be two ways out
    & the door that was secretly open
    calls me
    like the feather to the floorboards."

    | Posted on 2008-03-10 00:00:00 | by in shadow | [ Reply to This ]

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