All 16 entries tagged Poetry
April 24, 2010
Wrote this in Year 11, entered it into the Tower Poetry Competition for that year. Not particularly good, but came across it when rummaging through old notes and brought back fond memories, so have posted it merely for nostalgic reasons.
March 23, 2010
The scented lake quivers: a Moses soup of sensual temptation; a cloying swathe of florid accents and the peacock flag to an idle god. Skin is coated, alcoholic film greased over like a second fur, every filament primed and ready.
The peacock struts - female feathers fanning this time - an age old trick stolen from the men and elegantly refined. Flower colours brighten the senses, trawling back through Neanderthal red into a whole spectrum of scarlets until the brain screams with aortic warmth.
The fragrance lingers still: wafting into every cavity, every open pore; invading the core of being and seeping out in languid swimming -
of lazy sexuality.
Photo from I series I did to accompany this piece.
March 19, 2010
Blue rivers pulse,
the arteries of pink land
with their secondary colour.
that tube of flesh,
a hummingbird's wingbeat
of living rhythm.
And I watch it.
Watch the rise and fall:
breathing in and crushing out
in a perpetual orgasm of pumping.
This is my blood.
And I watch it live.
Sleep is impossible,
a dream darkened hatred
that sits on the horizon,
a distant closeness.
My fingers stretch for it
even as my throat clenches in disgust,
swallowing through the nightmares
of a new day.
I must not go to sleep ---
for that means I must soon
February 12, 2010
For some reason the audio and video recording thing on the blog entry creator wouldn't work today (I think I may have screwed up the commands for my microphone software somehow...), so made a recording in Windows Media Player, and it should open if you click the above link.
Wanted to put a recording of this up, because the poem structure doesn't necessarily work so well on paper, but it functions more like a dramatic monologue and works relatively nicely when you act it out.
February 11, 2010
I belong to Eve
The Angel's Plea.
Every Man hears the Redeemer's call,
but they have made wrongdoing a habit.
Nothing's strong enough
to stop them falling for apples.
In that sticky sweetness
sounds the voice of the Devil's lawyer,
pleading his case.
They are the little Children
never taught to say no to strangers.
Every Man heard the Christ-child's call,
one blazing scream of ecstatic light -
but it was fleeting,
and left them no residual sweetness.
The truth has died,
red skin pierced by the hungry mouths
of six billion snakelings.
Shadows encroach upon the borders of Eden,
but the Light is blind.
They never meant for it to turn out like this.
You are meant to be their Healer,
but your cure has proven ineffective.
They need another drug.
What are you going to do?
And yes, it still has that nursery rhyme sound to it that seems to always happen when I'm just jotting things down, but I'm going to go back and redraft this at some point, as there are some bits I like, so the rhyme might shift then.