Broken UndamagedA Poem by R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe) Finally finished my first true poem in far too long! Small edits may occur, especially if someone points out problems in the poem, but here it is! Enjoy.
Part 1, The fragility of a human being
The fragility of a human being Is paraplegic frequencies only the broken bones strained deaf can sing Only the whittled stems and twigs of lazulite stars know what it’s like to be stepped on Only those who are still standing, suffering, have collapsed Stillborn bodies of old men who can no longer wander are plastic daffodils in the darkness I am a moth to a flame An insect called life, that clings to the flesh of blackwater velvet The veins of moonlight that strum the voice-box in my head If only ever in silence will you hear me For I have never bled Reaching, awakened from my epileptic madness As the starlight shimmers the little feet that cannot hold the weight of dawn falling like an angel As we all burn like the sun In our frozen hearts, our native tongue, dying young The only thing that is passing is new picture frames Of times when old ones fabricated mavericks from hibiscus And crafted angels without wings, glimmering shadows That were never meant to fly Were we ever meant to be? You and I On the feathers of dried rose-petal sediment Speaking steel whipping the backs of our tongue choking on existence Vomiting words That I never wanted to hear Like the sound of rust on the hinges of my soul’s doorframe Locked behind my ribcage Did I have anything to say to you, in the first place? The dead men are still alive I wonder if they never wanted to have heard anything I have said With their knowledge of empty full moons Without their hearts beating the devil out of the aurora of dusk The dwindling douse of flesh Whittling away as the bones sing of broken vows to solitude, kindling in the wind I was never alone I hear nothing It is beautiful I am repeating myself Every empty breath is rhyming through the jaws of this ocean above our skullduggery The cloudy scalpel cutting through sunset The ruthless rhythm continues, in the sunlight of another dark star’s scapegoat to the clockwork’s octaves The fragility, impulsively carries on the fragrance of insanity, upon the backs of hours Buried in the dirt of seconds Flowing with the river of minutes Under the wax of a shapeless world We are all abstract castaways in the inkblot gifts of mannequins clothed in the madness world’s apart Dreams of threads cut through the distance Like the dawn cuts through a nightingale’s war-cry I am at peace with my battlefield The fallen are still standing strong as the foundation of our lives May we never rise above that suffering Silence double-crossing the nothingness that was always something ordinary Something broken in a way that still ticks like a heartbeat So mangled that it’s more human than it used to be Scribbled in such clumsiness that it could be said it was perfectly whole as a jigsaw puzzle So beautifully without grace So lovely that only an ugly picture could capture in its broken arms Limp as a corpse that smiles on our memories of their lives Gone stagnant, but still growing under the skin of our past Wrinkled with smile lines, laughing with death, over the fickle fleeting monster called life
Part 2, Shattered
But I am forever just pieces of a whole separated in hatred That shattered like cardiovascular Rorschach's in the nightshade barricade of the civil war of sorrow within the world of my embryos tornados memento of celestial metallurgy And even my cadaver has sharp edges, verses of purgatory torrent agoraphobic So don't cut yourself on my pride, ribbons I wear like memories on the straightjacket sleeves of a family that passed me by While my hands that write eulogies on a dead heart's perjury Still beating, Ember's of incendiary hurricanes let me turn the lights out and tuck you in Mangled ensembles of broken wings Battling the stratosphere with the metabolism of an avatar Behind the bars of word's A prisoner that sings symbolism, invisible to stabbing avenues of cataclysm That made me fragile as paper cuts on the wind flowing like the pages of a broken spined book opening like a lead flower Smudged with silent words flying the ashes of a pacifist like a flag of insanity Never heard by the b*****d of a moment giving birth to redemption Adopting pain, divorcing reason, reinforced freedom, bulletproof semen The abortion of a child chained to a machine called Torment A fiend of psychopathy's rapture Crafted from the sapling of god's onomatopoeia Only in the flames, can I let you go with the smoke in the wind Burning out like a flicker of hope Dwindling obsidian daydreamers of chaos, lost in Holocaust Sinning infinity virgin to the curtain roll Hanging from the soul of a telephone pole
Part 3, Pragmatic Fragments
Let me flip the world upside down so you can level with me And get high on the divide between self and apartheid sacrifice Cause your head’s in the sky like a death scythe Ripe for dilapidated afterlife’s magnum opus Metamorphosis of intercoursing osteoporosis of cloudnine’s satellites Like meteorite transceivers of intravenous double helixes Reaping Olympian photosynthesis like pragmatic fragments As they avalanche shattered glass psychosomatic amalgamated glaciers Of chandelier immaterialism’s prisms of ethereal rhythm Imitating motivation infinite ricocheting hieroglyphics Abyssal infentesimo deafening requiem From the sky of formaldehyde Saying goodbye to the grindstone gears of sunlights’ blight Shuttered shadows tight with indecipherable poltergeists On the incorporeal twirl as they dwarf our worlds
© 2019 R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)Author's Note
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R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)Burlington, Halton, CanadaAboutMost of my poems can be differing lengths depending on the time you want to spend reading them. You can avoid reading anything brackets, or read it all. If you want an in-between, you can read only th.. more..WritingRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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