a splintered chopstick made of rose thorns

[paperleaves]

I haven't written anything in a while, but it feels good to get back into the swing of things...please comment! I need inspiration and ideas after taking such a long break :(

the integrity of moss buttons
leafing through the graves
swings from black brittle branches to the symbiotic plague
i swear that night you promised me, with every burning brick
that our love was built on polyester rays and that the meaning of catatonic
was riddled in extinguished candle wicks...
embalmed, the late night carriage drew close, clipped and crimped
in a sapphire wire
your eyes entwined in sulfur blocks our eternal clock is brimming with d5w
dextrose and saltwater the parenteral resignation
distinguished in your white aura, preparing for the final wish
blueberry lips and satin skin, the morgue declared it was so sweet a sin to
dip their gloves in
lock out, tag out
the machines chained in rigid glory, submitting to the will of flesh masters bathed in leather robes
i want to tear you away from me, like a limp shear of meat from my bones, but lord knows
your tender tendons always lust for my grasp
and feeling is the path to enlightenment, reading the manifests all etched in red ink
all they spell is your name
and humor me so by shunning the light, cast out like a demon from firefly sight,
the bleak scent of nothing perspiring in sleep, voltaire was so right when he wrote
"we must cultivate our garden"
sleep on, little angels, but the devils are hard at work
if you want to extinguish the hardship, you have to get there first
satirical imposition plays the fool while gold tipped sandals sift through sandy seas
i'll be swimming to you in the sand storm, for one thousand and one nights

[MorpheusSandman]

Well, as I said in another thread, I'm a genuine fan of yours, paperleaves. If you released a book of poetry I would very honestly buy it. Your vocabulary is extraordinary, but even more so is your mix of surrealist imagery in a context concatenated by the aesthetic and emotion of the language; your pieces are so rich that I suspect I could read them 20 times and read a slightly different poem each time. Your mix of elongated and short lines create this truly dreamy, mesmeric rhythm, as does your brilliant use of alliteration, consonance, and selective rhyme. You have a truly unique voice that's all your own, and your poems kinda remind me of the films of Tarkovsky... and that's a VERY high compliment. My favorite lines from this gem:

embalmed, the late night carriage drew close, clipped and crimped
in a sapphire wire
...
blueberry lips and satin skin, the morgue declared it was so sweet a sin to
...
the machines chained in rigid glory, submitting to the will of flesh masters bathed in leather robes
...
and humor me so by shunning the light, cast out like a demon from firefly sight,
...
sleep on, little angels, but the devils are hard at work
if you want to extinguish the hardship, you have to get there first
satirical imposition plays the fool while gold tipped sandals sift through sandy seas
i'll be swimming to you in the sand storm, for one thousand and one nights

Quite glorious. I hope you keep it up, and if you do ever publish a book let me know. :)

[Free Falcon]

Extraordinary vocabulary which really impressed me
I like it!

[breathtest]

Paperleaves it is good to see your poetry up here again. It is a pleasure to read it and this poem really lives up to your older pieces. Your imagery is simply mesmerising.

Keep writing because you are brilliant.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Nothing here but your own native genius! There's an irresistible flow to this, a wholeness. Nevertheless there are certain lines

i want to tear you away from me, like a limp shear of meat from my bones, but lord knows
your tender tendons always lust for my grasp

that are especially memorable! And this:


i'll be swimming to you in the sand storm, for one thousand and one nights

There isn't a single part of you, I think, that isn't alive, alive!

[paperleaves]

MorpheusSandman, thank you SO much for the incredibly inspiring comment! Free Falcon, breathtest, and Jer, thank you for keeping me going :) Keep writing and inspiring!

Here is another piece I wrote today. It is unfinished, but I need practice to begin writing as freely as I once did. Help!
It is called:

a mountain of chains beneath the circular malevolence

in this place we are assigned our crutches
beneath the melting plastic wall of stems and thorns and buckets of bile,
the waters cripple in a stagnant fatality,
sinking and shaving and raving the moon shreds the craters of my umbilical observation
and allows me to whine once more
severed from the dreams of sleep
he carried me
he carried me
on beds of coals tucked in blister sheets
and all my legs can say are mumbles, imprisoned in bristles and wings of teeth
heels of pepper and toes of cream, the blue bled through the window screen,
and all the noise she made when we saw her leave
were giggles in the dark
they say you never leave your demons
unless the deed was clean
and since my intentions were dirty
does that mean you'll never leave me? my
honey shags of dew incomplete, missing liquors of venom as soft as me
the walls cave in to bow to thee, sweet embrace from the ceiling to the rugs made of staples
the mortar claws the streets
once i knew what the glue was for, the pieces seemed oblique
thy will be done, and there will be no blood
at least not on the sheets

[MorpheusSandman]

Again, stunning... brilliant. My favorite lines:

in this place we are assigned our crutches - This is truly a riveting opening line. I could see it fitting right into a Shakespeare play.

and all the noise she made when we saw her leave
were giggles in the dark

This is truly haunting; something about the combination of leaving and the contrast between 'giggles' being something of levity and the 'dark' being, well, dark makes it really haunting.

the mortar claws the streets - more superb imagery

once i knew what the glue was for, the pieces seemed oblique
thy will be done, and there will be no blood
at least not on the sheets

I love these; in the way that 'oblique' connects with the assonance of 'sheets' and that really sinister middle of line that combines the Biblical line with what's being done causing no blood which, perhaps ironically, makes it all the more menacing.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Here is another piece I wrote today. It is unfinished, but I need practice to begin writing as freely as I once did. Help!
It is called:

a mountain of chains beneath the circular malevolence

in this place we are assigned our crutches
beneath the melting plastic wall of stems and thorns and buckets of bile,
the waters cripple in a stagnant fatality,
sinking and shaving and raving the moon shreds the craters of my umbilical observation
and allows me to whine once more
severed from the dreams of sleep
he carried me
he carried me
on beds of coals tucked in blister sheets
and all my legs can say are mumbles, imprisoned in bristles and wings of teeth
heels of pepper and toes of cream, the blue bled through the window screen,
and all the noise she made when we saw her leave
were giggles in the dark
they say you never leave your demons
unless the deed was clean
and since my intentions were dirty
does that mean you'll never leave me? my
honey shags of dew incomplete, missing liquors of venom as soft as me
the walls cave in to bow to thee, sweet embrace from the ceiling to the rugs made of staples
the mortar claws the streets
once i knew what the glue was for, the pieces seemed oblique
thy will be done, and there will be no blood
at least not on the sheets

The only help I think you need, my dear, is more time to be and explore and to continue expanding your vision. Ominous concluding three lines!