Painting These Walls

Another poem done during my lunch break lol

The flakes of faded teal

peeling paint

gather and rise

with curled edges;

catching the faint

            light of my eyes

like tea leaves;

predicting, perhaps, the crumbling nature

of my life

this world I believe is

                      to be

is simply fading to

                      not to be.

 

There is

a hurriedfranticfeeling

                      in my veins;

from either the caffeine I V

or the furious beating

of a dying heart

in its last fleeting train

of feeling

before it departs.

 

The morning grey slate

of early day

casts through my window

as if seeking to make me say

"I'm done,

I'll die before the sun"

 

Then

in a furiousangryamber moment

I stand up and HURL

my coffee cup like a ball

shattering

            splattering

                           clattering

against the faded teal paint

peeling against my wall.

 

Then I fall

curling up like a fetalcryingcold

and wounded child

lost amidst the wild

brambles, bushes and thorns

torn between hopeful naivety

and the crumbling depravity

of my worldmindsoul;

caught amidst these wild trees

I feel the seizing need

           to burn them down like coals---

 

I stand up and I scream

letting go of these trembling knees

seizing hold of buckets of paint

and slinging them in furious throws

of passion coloured amber resistance;

throw them against these fading walls

with all the colour

of anger

sorrow

hope

love

          life.

Reviews

[Jessica M. Lundquist]

I like that you introduce the peeling teal paint, make it symbolic, and re-introduce it later and protest against it --
Also found that I didn't necessarily notice your rhyming until I went back a second time, but that it gave a very nice fluidity all the way through - not precise, but very artfully done.
At the beginning - I got tripped up at "this world I believe is..." and on through the rest of that stanza - I think because of the spacing, mostly, but also because of repeated words. At first, I thought it read, "this world I believe is/ to be/ simply fading to/ not to be" - which sounded perfect to me. Just a thought!
Amazing work.

[HidingBehindTaylor]

"to be
is simply fading to
not to be."
Shakespeare. Is what I got from that. (:
Oh how I love this. Like walking away from the past and finding old graffiti. There's nothing to do but to paint over bad memories. I'm only a teenager. So, I have no input. On "improvement" if that's what you're looking fore, because frankly I think this is beautiful.

[KAOlmsted]

"There is

a hurriedfranticfeeling

in my veins..."

-I loved this. I felt it. And the rest that followed. A lot of times I find wandering thoughts in pieces of this length where the poem gets away from the writer and by the end I'm sitting here wondering wtf did I just read?? *laugh* Not so here. This stayed on track throughout and I loved every word. Incredible write.

-kimmer

[MachinaWriter]

That means a lot, thanks ^^ I absolutely fail at keeping things short, but I think this had everything it needed and nothing more, so I'm glad to hear you say that.

[KAOlmsted]

It did...and my pleasure.

[Enid Blake]

A very passionate poem which captures emotion within the images.

[MachinaWriter]

Thank you ^^

[Southern Cross]

Must have been a Hellava lunch.. Either that or Starbucks is making some strong latte. I like the combined words, they add so much fury to the voice here. The passion of a survivors instinct rings loud and clear.

[MachinaWriter]

Yeah, I had fun with the combined words. I felt it spoke better of the message and the emotion I was trying to convey. I'm glad to see you point that out, I was wondering how it would be received.

[Southern Cross]

Bobble heads no worries