What The Water Gave Me.

Inspired by Florence + The Machine's song with the same title.

Wind knocks the Earth,
Like a heavy hand,
In an array of bird feathers and salt.
All perpendicular to this axis
(A display it is known for.)
It then shoots the leaves,
Into the throats of old men
Until they suffer quickly and die,
And all aged die.


Sun splashes its colour on sleepy sands,
Like a hairy brush,
And again.
Brighter and hungrier.
Stretching until it blinds,
Its enraged heat begins to roam,
Charcoaling children,
Turning their backs to black,
And their souls to smoke.
Their screams become a yellow substance that quickly fades into dust and a whisper and a careless stroke.
Another hue,
Made by an unknown hand,
On the canvass of retardation.
Where my eyes sit,
Portraited.

But I stay adrift, still.
amidst the music,
Of dissenting waves.
A lone parachute of parts,
Channeling the multitudes who
Had died with me.
Sauntering our spirits in the Ocean's thickness.
Letting the waves embrace our souls in the heavy confusion
Of waters.
The reflections reflecting nothing but our flawed emancipations.
Like the weighty ghosts of pirates that try to make conversation, as if running from their own company.
The exodus beams in the eyes of sunken ships,
Bony and weary.
Like songs that have lost their hold on tongue.Decorated for the end of things.
And History bends at its calves like swollen gums,
Cavities in cacophonous chapters,
Upon the seabeds that refuse to accept our exhaustion like kisses.
But martyrs must be martyrs.
And rest does not belong to us.







- JSL.

Author's Note

What thinkest thou? Moreover, what dost thou feel?

Reviews

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~ haha... (to the author's note)... i'm thinkething that life... as mister ed hart once said... is about "givething and takething"... haha... :P ~ sorry... you started it...

~ seriously speaking... i was in this maryrdom place for i dunno how many years... and i was freed just a few days ago... ~ the problem (i think) is this gulf between all artists and society... someone once sent me a quote that said... "an artist is his times, the others are behind it"... and i really didn't get what that meant... but when i read masterpieces on this site... and in them artists mourn rather than not mourn... i wish that society would catch up and recognize its artistic wealth... and artists wouldn't have to suffer this torture called "disguised unemployment"... which makes them do work in the real world that they have to do... ~ in short, i wish the universe was not made of parts that are so seriously and so severely disconnected... ~ i do realize that i'm not reading this post as you'd have liked... and for that i apologize... profusely... ~ i hope thou shall pardon me, your lordship... i am but a pauper who once went to school for a bit... (in the neolithic age)... :P