Only My Own

I'm not happy with this poem. It showcases a type of poem that I consider less work, and less entertaining. I call them long and skinny poems. I write block poems. Regardless, here it is. Skinny.

Tomorrow soars on the horizon, brazen

And when you leave only our bygone lives will breathe

Sorting out my sanity

And even if it rains I’m dry-eyed sunlight

In the coldest snow, the gale sends me home

Tragically alone

 

My hand clutches a rush of moments

Pulling me down, falcon on the ground

Pent up redemption suspends me

I will fly home on one wing

 

Romance is rancid, demanding

Flowers cower under the winter moonshine

I just want to end it all

Every song, every stalk of life, every enemy

Disassemble my confidence

Rinse the glisten from my sorrow

You left me deathless, necrotic

You wear my empty heart like a necklace

 

But I’ll be here, where I’ve always been

Deliver my forgiveness when I can continue in the residue

And sit witless without you eclipsing my moonlight

 

Sometimes I wonder why you did this to me

Sometimes I whistle moments of self-pity into ancient history

 

I remember embodying an atomic bomb

One step from splitting in an outpour of emotion

Gone in a second

Maybe you weren’t ready

To put on the equipment, and avoid the sickness

 

And I don’t blame you

It’s hard to love destruction when you’re ruptured

And I don’t hate you

It’s hard to hate someone who doesn’t rip you asunder

And I don’t wait for you

Because I don’t wage war on peace

And I don’t remember our love

Because that wasn’t love, that was a timer

Until the devastation entered the blood

And pumped the love from my shuttering body

 

So I shake and shiver, and rinse the rivets on my fingertips

And slither through the thicket like a stringent river or snake

And awake in a world where I had feelings and knew how to love

And we didn’t suffer, and you didn’t give up

And I didn’t slit open the throat that took my breath away

 

But I defended myself from the mouth of death itself

And I did not lay with my shade and the dark water in the bay

Washes the apocalypse mosh pit from my eye sockets

And rocks my bones like stone poetry, omens broken

 

And I don’t hate you, and I don’t blame you, ‘cause I don’t remember

All I remember is being dismembered, and you begging me for warm feelings

And being worthless, urchin under the blunder of red curtains

And I didn’t feel angry when you cheated on me, and I apologize

Because the sundown is ripe with pain

And the night consumes me with new dreams

That scream asexuality, and bury cravings and urges, as I merge

With the pure current and regurgitate your salivated hatred

And pump your nothing from my suffering

And light the sky with soul fire, desiring only my own solace

 

 

Author's Note

I'm not really happy with this poem. It showcases a type of poem that I consider less work, and less entertaining. I call them long and skinny poems. I write block poems, or paragraph poems. Represent. Regardless, here it is. I had to try writing a poem that is "proper", "correct", "digestible", ect. Fuck that archetype and fuck this poem. Rich rhyme and imagery is a hundred times better than weak anorexic supermodel bullshit. That is not beautiful, that is not a healthy read, it has no body. That is not my fantasy of the ideal poem. Long and skinny. Watered down, shitty. I guess you could say easy common poems that look and sound similar are not my cup of tea. Sorry if I offended anyone. This poem offends me.

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

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Relax Jack!
It's not true about what you think of this poem. May be short lines but not less entertaining.
That's a different thing if your work doesn't satisfies you... You know an artist has to give thousands of strokes before getting a perfect shade. You have to do the same for your poem. If a poem is not good according to you the poem should offend lesser than it would encourage to make it better. As much as I know you are good a taking challenges so just go for this one too!
I bet you can come out with the best! 😊
Good luck as always!