Jealous Yesterday

I can't erase your sorry eyes

that crashed like waves on the shores of

my bleached sense of solitude

Over the ocean, tugging on the moon

a steely veil of ash and gloom

that shine like tranquil rain

weeping down the trap of an artist's window.

Red velvet lips kill another cigarette,

as dreams dance like lithely ballerinas

across these somber pages, I wrote

of latin jazz and macchiatos

Sipping history with a primal tongue

Lost myself again in the honey words

of your aristocrasy. Promises to use your love

To take my pain away. I wrote

About memories burning away,

fading in and out like a jealous yesterday.

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[David Lewis Paget]

A lot of imagery here, some that works, and some that doesn't. 'Lithely' from 'lithe' doesn't really fit - 'lively?' And what is a macchiato? Excuse my ignorance, perhaps it's an American or Mexican thing. Arist(r)ocrasy needs to lose the 'r'. You need a few pauses in the way of commas; punctuation is very important. Interesting though...

[Kristallo]

A macchiato is creamy, layered coffee drink. :P

[Muse]

I disagree...we don't always need commas...the line break is enough to tell the reader to stop...pause...and read. I honestly feel like too much punctuation gets in the way. Rule number one in the book "Poetry for idots"

Let words be words.....

Grammar...always important..same with spelling. Otherwise...as a reader...we must take a hands-off approach an another person's surrealistic vision.

[...]

I have felt the same way but never wrote it and don"t think I could have wrote it as vividly as you did!

[An owl on the moon]

The shades and hues of your words provoke such a feeling of angst... of dreams undone... of hearts filled with scars... This seems so profoundly personal, looking back over brighter days... the longings and the wishes forever veiled... It overwhelms me.

[Eve]

Omg..who is that masked man beneath me ...haaaa, only one of the most brilliant poets on the planet! Hey you, get off of my cloud! Hi Kristallo! Thanks for the friend request, I am so happy to meet ya and oh my goodness, you are the pot calling the kettle black, this poem sings to me! I think it is absolutely brillant, look out Perdy you have competition!

[Perdition]

From the second that cigarette was lit I felt like curling up inside this poem. Through your words I began traveling and I was sudden.... fumbling through awkward pale faces at this overcast cafe...the wreckage of scratchy Jazz being piped into cream left me wondering who the hell wrote this amazing thing...What scream was bellowing from the balcony? Why was it cutting through everything fleeting....especially everything.

"Sipping history with a primal tongue"

...well....whatever could have been left out of that line was left without cause and it is undoubtedly one of the most face altering lines I have read in quite awhile.......great to see you're still here!