Voice

Alone, I go into this wilderness naked...

It is not for returning that compels or worries but for a splinter. 

Dark now as summer slows, and perhaps that is too light a word but the rush of it submits. This is the journey, the falling into hell and never a step nor test for the devil or his key. This is the rub, the madness that enters my veins and steals the dream.. 

I pour myself  through holes into the empty cup and stir the shards, waiting as if a train or ship or death might come. I tap the melting sleeve where nothing abides. I test the last of smoke whose end has long since seen the flame and again nothing. My lips compress to hold the screams within my throat but still I feel nothing. I know it shys, somewhere out there or within it hides like a bird among the leaves watching. She asks me back to bed, to accept some peace like a hammer to my knees but then the splinter begins and I give way with tears and blood and spit, returning to sail my ship back into perfect storms.

 

Author's Note

wip

Reviews

[Kerra]

WOW!!! This is amazing, the feelings are so real.
"I pour myself through holes into the empty cup and stir the shards"

I love this part so much

[Perdition]

Again thanks for your wonderful review and for stopping by to read this one. Will be by soon,

[lightsong]

I think this one should be better :)

Ok, so in a moment of creation, us poets can be inspired by anything that may excite a thought or a feeling inside us, a voice can be heard either with ears or in heart, voices of nature, voices of the unvirese, even the voice inside us, and we try turning that voice into words, here it's your world of inspiration and creating painted vividly.

[lightsong]

I'm sorry if I sounded like a preacher, this I didn't mean.

[Perdition]

Not at all lightsong...just meditating on your words and invoking a sort of silence over them so I can reply in a clarity that is both honest and worthy of your review as well as your perceptions. You deserve my full attention and it is the least that I can do. Might take till tomorrow but I will think well on your word as I do appreciate the insight. Feels like you're leaning into a Jungian approach but Alan Watts is not too far off as well...hahaha. Yet again it might be more from my shaman heritage. I will return but I want to think this through and not just gloss over your words. They're pretty impressive lightsong. Thank you for yet another challenge. I'm also hoping to write tonight so please don't think I'm perceiving your review as preachy okay. I will return..promise. Mitakuye Oyasin till then Phenom ;)

[Paul Bell]

This is probably the year for going into the wilderness and not coming back till sane life returns around the world. Mind you, the wilderness has probably been chopped down and made into luxury flats. On a serious note, this also hints of depression, getting low as low can go. Life is a dark place at times, and when the shadows lurk the hiding places are usually full.

[Perdition]

Just saw your review Paul..my apologies but yes I do believe you're right about going into our inner wilderness or ""the" outer wilderness or maybe both .hahaha~

[barleygirl]

When your poem starts with "wilderness" I'm thinking of my own blissful hideout, but quickly I realize this is a different kind of wilderness, possibly sleep or darkness in general, or maybe the desolation that aloneness feels like to some. When you mention smoke & flame, it's hard not to read as a Californian in the midst of raging infernos, yet I find the flames here to be a solace in some ways. "She asks me back to bed" -- feeling this line on several levels, could be someone who shares a crib or some dark entity that pulls me from slumber, haunts me a while, then slams me back down when done with me. The latter describes my typical nights (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Perdition]

The rabbit lives!! So glad and sorry to hear the news..I seldom watch the channels, let alone the news anymore, prefer instead the empire of my own illusions, as much as any I suppose...Ahh...that wilderness. Thanks Margie and please be careful best you can.

[Chris Shaw]

So surreal is this write. "I pour myself through holes into the empty cup" You know I pondered on that for while. That splinter though ouch. Worming it's way through your skin. Do you ever feel at peace? Stormy write.

Chris

[Perdition]

Peace is a prospect best kept in the moment that I can give it to others by humor or kindness or time or the little things that build up over the long run..Hence "Perdition" as most people worry so much about things that just bleed away outside the perception and expectation of the senses in life...imagination is a wonderful key to peace and I try to hold it as a sameness so NO and YES..lol. We are Poets and Poets have the voice that some believe are answers...they are merely words and the celebration of language and meter and art which changes the world. What you and I do, and all the others do as well here is essential as it is important and changes these perceptions and hearts and days and..and...and. We hold the infinite in our hands and mind and we can't give up this cause because it is so necessary. But Chris, it kills the artist and the world wants that death as life is the source of all pain. We give moments of peace with art. But I do tend to find some solace in knowing that maybe that is why I'm here. Well..that and heroin..lol. So just kidding. thank you for the question and for stopping by.

[Robert Trakofler]

How did I miss this! wow coming to the end of this poem has the after effect of a loud book drop in a giant hall. that quick glance for the origin of the boom and then the penetrating silence... Funny how I just said that remark about you being a sailor in another life and here you are back into the delicious stormy madness :) this is next level poetry my friend!

[Perdition]

Hahaha..Might be onto something there BB...
"ALL HANDS HOY!! WEIGH ANCHOR AND HOIST THE MIZZEN TO TORTUGA YE SEA DOGS AND MAKE HASTE OR IT'LL BE A CLEAVING TO THE BRISKET FOR YE...SAVVY!..lol.
Just had to get get me going didn't you?!..lol.
Thanks Bunny...I shall return.

[NotUsinganymore]

Interesting and nice descriptions. I enjoyed it.

[Perdition]

Thank you for the feedback and for your kind remarks JungLee.

[NotUsinganymore]

You are welcome.

[Unspoken poet]

Wow, such vivid imagery here, nicely written

[Perdition]

Thanks Kay-T.

[Rifal Hamdaan]

I agree. I love the imagery in here.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this has such a surrealistic feel to it...and all the time I was reading this I thought of Hamlet with Ophelia...
His mind and heart driven to one purpose, and she became a casualty of the war between him and the conscience of the King.
j.

[Perdition]

Thanks J...I thought about that papa ghost of Hamlet as well while chopping away at the superfluous bits. That damn Shakespeare cornered just about everything.."Something rotten in the state of Denmark...and to thine own self" as well..good to hear from ya.