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I whispered a prayer for you gray lips gray stone no faith any god listens or cares but i need i care i whispered a prayer to waste a breath misplaced inside a flesh of me you idol-worshiped long ago like this now, on bent knees without reverence or faith i existed i heard i remembered a prayer a breath a whisper a care a need a devouring rotted thin curtain stirrings the words of your ghost hand parting my disease cracked lips prayer-split to bleed a name existence past, unknown now except to me but still haunting colorless frost-white flame, I form words to nothing, I form template shadows to words work chewed stiff fingertips smear hopeless in dirt circles whisper you with no refrain conjure anointed versions of root-scented suffocation boarded broken-shut, decayed I whisper-wept your name dead blue sky witness, dead blue day of empty hands impaled folding tastes almost the same way as your name on a prayer these last attempts, these same sad flavors of blood-licked Knowings of your name I whispered against the hard day hung on waved wires to here you with me somehow here you here with me again to here you back i whispered, prayed as if it mattered to matter to want to need to whisper to clear a silence away with words breaths pleadings you will never answer or was the silence the answer the only answer to a prayer that dead lips pray |
Hey, lovely. I appreciate cornonthekob's version. But this piece, as it is, has a unique effect on its own. But that's probably because of the way I read it. You see, whenever I have the luxury of time, I read poems thrice. During my first try, I just go through it quickly--letting words pass without over thinking everything; allowing each word to inspire connections as another person would bumping against you on a crowded alley. Reading it this way, and considering the way it was presented, the piece still survived in terms of meaning. The simplicity of the words helped along with the repetition near the end that hammered the primary foundation of the meaning. It's like a mental collage of someone trying to make sense of the situation. It's how I thought / felt while forming an unwritten poem in my head about certain scenarios in my life that are too chaotic to put into order. Because of that, a visceral connection was fostered. I can't tell you whether or not this poem should be as slow and clear as cornonthekob's version or as quick and overwhelming as yours. I don't think I have the creative authority to do that. However, I can tell you that either way, to me, they convey a strong sense of regulated (perhaps repressed) rage trying to break through. It's the kind of prayer everyone needs to say at least once in their lives, I think. Well done. Also, as for this version, did you ever consider doing it in such a way wherein the line breaks don't exist at all? For it to flow continuously ala stream of consciousness hungrily searching for the peace? I considered it but I could be wrong. Anyway... I love going through your stuff. Your pieces are like the warm yet initially surprising slaps of a loving friend. That effect is something that I always find in your work. But then again, maybe it's because you are one of the few people who stop by my page to remind me to breath. ![]() As Ethiopia-bound Jayde would type... xoxo. | Posted on 2010-06-17 00:00:00 | by ANGELO | [ Reply to This ] | This piece speaks with a kind of saddened intimacy, revealing cobwebs where flowers are supposed to stand, eyes searching for the keys supposed to be within, A kind of release is offered here in knowing one does not know, a kind of yearning for completion but accepting completion only by the hands of the self. Powerful stuff. | | Posted on 2010-06-09 00:00:00 | by Clayman | [ Reply to This ] | i don't wanna just do it, but i would love to edit this; nothing altered meaning wise, there's just some little things i think i could do to help clarify(hopefully) or help, but i don't want to touch it if you don't want it touched. | ok here it is...... if i've taken to much liberty let me know, i'll take it down. i just arranged it how i felt connected, so i might have fuzzed it up a little....... I whispered a prayer for you with stone gray lips of no faith because any god listens or cares because I still needed I still cared I still whispered a prayer with wasted breath misplaced inside the flesh of me. you idol-worshiped long ago, like this now, on bent knees without reverence or faith but i existed i heard i remember a prayer a breath a whisper a care a need devouring rotten thin curtain stirrings; the words of your ghost hand parting my disease cracked lips prayer-split to bleed a name existence past, unknown now except to me but still haunting colorless frost-white flame, I form words to nothing, I form template shadows to words I work chewed stiff fingertips I smear hopeless in dirt circles I whisper you with no refrain I conjure anointed versions of root-scented suffocation boarded broken-shut, decayed I whisper-wept your name under dead blue sky witness, dead blue days of empty hands I Impaled folding tastes almost the same way as your name on a prayer these last attempts, these same sad flavors of blood-licked knowings . of your name I whispered against the hard day hung on waved wires to here you with me somehow hear you here with me again to here you back i whispered, prayed as if it mattered to matter to want to need to whisper to clear a silence away with breathed word pleadings but you may never answer or was the silence the answer the only answer to a prayer that dead lips pray because i existed i heard i remember a prayer a breath a whisper a care a need prayer-split to bleed a name misplaced inside the flesh of me I work stiff chewed fingertips I whisper you with no refrain | Posted on 2010-06-02 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ] | |