3 Pieces

3 Pieces

A Poem by Christina Elena.

On Holiday (In My Head)

 

What a holiday. Sydney, I miss you, wherever you may be now...

Now maybe she went on holiday...

 

-Imprimis, stands a lenghty, skinny, attractive one, sporting a newly

purchased coat that well suits the figure.

 

And following, sits a troubled, acceptable-looking, meekish one,

slouching in a dress that compliments the window's streams of light.-

 

Don't fret, folks, I had not forgotten to smile. I am in fact projecting

one now. And this audience thought it impossible! I would fancy the

one in the coat to perform selected pieces of E. Satie, while I, the

dolled-up pompus a*s, examine the flow of digits of the hand, next

the the ceiling's cracks, next the pedestrians on the other side of

the glass walking their best friends, next the feline chasing an

invisible prey. An implausible presentation, but also, finale, to

myself and the coated one, both becoming finnicky with all of it.

Someday someone will have parodied my life, and I, still slouched

in my dress. My cerebrum is a theatre, and I am parading around

the parquet amongst a blank-faced crowd. That coated figure is

arrogantly and furiously tickling on stage, as well he should be.

I race to meet this musician in spotlight to congratulate his wondrous

work, and meet a trip to the floor over my own feet instead.

 

My stomach is turned, my elbow scuffed, and the crowd giggles

and whispers, but I am still grinning.

 

 

Nature Had Called

The shadow upon you

Casting a dense, foggy overview

How I long for a shade of blue

To be bathed in its lightest hue

For my shadow to reign over

This shadow of you.

 

And velvet, and golden, and satin

Draping the shine of this cresent moon

Ominous fields with a blanket of dew.

 

As I lay under this tree

It speaks a great truth,

That Nature's painted colors,

I'd never think to subdue.

 

I dance with Her colors in this sacred commune.

 

I pity your shadow,

I pity your hue,

As your grey can match no landscape.

This painting, Her painting,

Becomes a dream come true.

 

 

 

Vexed Tripe

 

He said, 'I'm a walking contradiction, love...'

 

I wept, 'You're just feeding my addictions, son...'

I crept to the most vincinal sidewalk

And sat to the grass, until nightfall

But as my eyes grew heavy,

I educed all the nights,

We fell into each other

 

Oh, brother, where have you gone?

Oh, lover, where have we gone wrong?

Just another reason to call it off

Just another reason

 

Should I mask my face, keep my mouth still

Could this be reality, or fierce sex appeal

What is it that is curving in your mind

It is mine, all mine

Did I offend your wishes, why must you still hide

'Cause your eyes are locked deep into the floor

I want this last sip, oh how I covet just one more

Every time you wake up, I'll be falling asleep

And, every time I am focused, you'll swear it's a dream

 

Ah, lover, play that b***h of a song

Ah, brother, do you see what you've done?

Paralysis for the win

Tonight, I'll shy myself in

Into you.

© 2011 Christina Elena.


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

104 Views
Added on April 7, 2011
Last Updated on April 7, 2011

Author

Christina Elena.
Christina Elena.

Indianapolis, IN



About
You tell me. more..

Writing
... ...

A Poem by Christina Elena.