The Dawn's Omen

[miyako73]

Ah! the burning silence preludes
The vague omen in the candles
Crackling and flickering yellows
With swaying blues I hear, I see.

I burn fresh peels of oranges,
Sesame seeds, sweet lavender
To exorcise the resting dawn,
Hesitantly, I breathe, I gasp.

In this ritual, I starve my guts,
I force thirst on my silent tongue
Bitter from tar, nicotine smokes,
The sustenance I burn, I take.

The walls are tan, blank and void
Like hills barren in my landscape
The mind recalls to vex and irk
My hair and skin I burn, I melt.

[PrinceMyshkin]

"My mind remembers to torment" feels incomplete or unidiomatic but the rest of this is rich with imagery.

[miyako73]

I thought of using "disturb" as in "disturb my hair, my skin I burn and melt," but it didn't sound as powerful. Thanks for reading, Prince.

[Jack of Hearts]

For this reader, this poem was a bit impenetrable in some way... but that's not to say he didn't like some of it! Lines like these, specifically:


I burn fresh peels of oranges,
Sesame seeds, sweet lavender
To exorcise the resting dawn...

You have your own style for sure, miyako. This reader will keep reading your stuff and will keep trying to follow whatever direction you feel you need to take us.






J

[miyako73]

Thanks, J. Writing poetry, for me, is like piecing together a jigsaw puzzle. Images come to me piece by piece. Metaphors are my memories of the past I experienced one by one. The beats are what I hear once in awhile that are not in unison. It's hard to control them sometimes. When I'm too tired or bored to pick, choose, select, I either write them all down or I intentionally avoid "and". The absence of "and," at least to me, means that there are still others not in the list or, to exaggerate, it means infinity. Example: "pick, choose, select"