Raincoats and Cigarettes

It was a brief exchange

A caustic reality of sorts

The way her words lapped

Rose imposed

Daring,

Faintly pressed in abstract and miracle

 

The way her albatross circled and swilled

Then whisked away a story in captain’s regret

All were there

Where I but grappled

Between sun and setting

 

Where Whitman bellowed over want for trail

Freckled on the morning’s paper

A specking

Voice unrehearsed

A tangible melting

Intangible

 

As I write I am reminded of spring’s fashioned grass

Of distant olfactory

Charged by the heartened bygones

Thunder beyond the coming summer electric

 

Were it built in

Song I would have sheared these fingers by now

I would have crowned the teeth of cannibals in mad response

Played ode in Canterbury tale

Mad midnight 

In cheap peep toe heels

 

But nowhere was 

A silhouette to follow

Nothing of the alley cat’s breath

Even the sky had emotionally dropped from 

starlit perch

 

This is a wanting

A black I must wade alone

Framed and stilled Modigliani

Every word from it placed 

An artificial limb

Awaiting my saw 

The hatchet of courage

 

If not were I to remember a long friended sound

A rain that fell over once

Building from out of my fate and farce

Downward into constant spirals of hell

I would kneel

A perfect fool

To expect that this madness should never happen again

That my entire world would live and never float up flotsam,

Shipwrecked over the pleasing arteries of words

Hers

It is here that the Leo is dare tossed

Forever a monster in thirsty pride

Perdition

Author's Note

wip

Reviews

[Priscilla Sayers]

Ahhhh! My sweet Hawk speaks. The Wind is callin, directing, an orchestrated cacophony to push us into Action... Kite upon that win my sweet and let a million souls breathe through your skin, for the time is now, the awakening begins. 😘

[s]

I love your work so much... the concepts of the tangible and intangible and interesting to think about for sure. The last stanza is incredibly impactful, can't help but think of the old Samuel Johnson "He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man". X

[Perdition]

Oh how you do so love pressing at the constraints of my knowledge as well as memory. Will you marry me ?…lol. That is simply wonderful ..Old English and a philosophy of beastliness. I mean why not reach for Huxley as well Or more perfect still Blake's road of excess as it leads to the palace of wisdom. Don't ever stop trying me Angel. I'd hate to think I was not worth it. I love that line by the way and though I removed the beast years ago I have replaced it with a madness that requires a fearsome reckoning for simply being alive. Hello Angel..thanks for stopping in~ Can't wait to see what you've written as of lately!

[s]

I'll have to think about it for sure! Haha x I am reading Blake currently, but recently I haven't found the time with school and everything... I'll work on some new writing soon and keep you posted for sure. Angel X

[Perdition]

Too late ..I have already invaded and now all that is left is the ring..so by all means…think. X

[luna rose]

well well well, LEO.

I can't even describe with how delicious this Stew of Words is. Seriously. I could live off of this Stew for the rest of my life. It is so stunning. How do you DO THAT?

Surely whatever created this mad passion will not leave you with low expectations for life; unlike you said "that my entire world would live and never float upstream again" is SO UNTRUE. But I am very curious of this muse... insomnia? A woman? A good bowl of cereal?

(Your Whitman and Canterbury references did not go unnoticed by this literary nerd)

You have a lot of references to nighttime/midnight in your poetry. A driving force in your work, no doubt. You do a great job of illuminating the undercurrent of consciousness in a way that is so beautiful and delicious and magnificent. Gah. I can't even handle this poem. "where I grappled between sun and setting" BRILLIANT.

So much brilliance.

[Perdition]

This one is the bowl of cereal…Oh come on..seriously? This one stemmed from last morning's shock over the words that were just laid at my table and I was unable to do anything but get immaculately charged and awed. A reference to a great writer and poetess that will undoubtedly make more of me than what I am capable, and for that an eternal thanks and respect. I did not see your talent or words coming. Still, I have to marvel at the gift given and at the time it was introduced. I will make the most that I possibly can as for what else could I do when offered such a light in the our of empty. There are times when the universe just proves itself even more grand than ever I could have planned and so Thank you. I will bleed in proper to earn the wonderful gift that you offered here in your writing.
But of course let men know if it sucks.. ;)

[luna rose]

HAHAHA I KNEW THE CEREAL WOULD WORK. I literally can't handle you. This poem validates my existence so hard, it is actually kind of sad.

I am a firm believer in Jungian philosophy. Synchronicity is the most real thing I know of. I am so, so, so thankful that I came across your poetry... an vice versa... but how much credit can we take? That is the eternal question.

This poem is the opposite of suck. It is plump and ripe and full of juice. Thank you so much. This means the whole world & beyond.

[Perdition]

Jung-ster! "It's a shame about raisins" in reference to your plump and ripe and full of juice a lie from "Benny and Joon" Yep! Cocoa Puffs gets me every time :(

Not sad at all Luna..this world will trip you Appalachian and till then you are here to help and helping you are…IN SPADES! I too am most thankful and it's not about credit , though we love to own these things. It is as you said and falls perfectly into the "universal mind" aspect of our existence. In the moment, at the moment, for the moment.

I will imbibe as often and as much as possible and though I do not see you needing my help n the slightest, I am still grateful for the chance to improve and I am a firm believer that destiny deemed it thus through our universal relation, however it is still up to us to walk through and accept such gifts and make the most while we are here. What will come only our commitment to the pen will tell.

I plan on this: Not to waste a single second and derive all the inspiration I can from your words…so don't handle me..It is I that must handle the madness of knowing your talent is out there and I can either learn from it or be bittered and frustrated by it, The universe sent you here so how cold I be bitter. Thanks! A million times over..Thank you!