~ The Man behind his Mask (Part 1.)

~ A story this night as an incognito devised to save man from the vexation of thinking...

~ The Man behind his Mask (Part 1.)

 

 

 

In the streets of Venice on carnivals night

He walked, compulsive, along the water

His heart was beating as the King of his blood pressure

Crowned with the sweat that poured from his pores

Dripping out of his face, under his mask

To find her was a lifetime task

 

Restless and eagerly of desire to catch her this time

Almost he sniffed her fragrance, truly obsessed.

Speaking aloud, but his words with discretion,

A lost Penetrating mind full of things to do,

What his voice told him to, but

He still had no clue...

 

Violin playing sounded out of the street corners

The acceleration of the song, while he shook his head

It made confuse his path, it distracted him

The voices in his head were talking about his failure

He felt lost, insecure, and confused

Why he had this haunting need, that she must be abused?

 

Closer with the illusion than his sick mind could change

Further away from its conclusion, wandering towards his needs

He runs on pure survival instinct, to catch her glimpse

Just a mystery she was, an elusive fact, hidden far away

Like she was one of a thousand, in the crowd for him a goal

But in his eyes a true special soul...

 

Various ways of suffering he had faced already

Glossed over by the splendor of the night

The little boys dream was thwarted, fallen into pieces...

In the great city of illusion, and all his mind confusion

He lost the key of his thoughts, the true transmitting fusion

He walked to an oasis of self disillusion.

 

He shall overcome the compulsions and head made illustrations

Like an rope around his neck and gives him a feeling he chokes

Tightened with every step he takes,

The way of self destruction he makes, and now much longer...

Does not awake him yet...

The perfection to catch her in his mind is stronger

 

The made pictures in his mind rushed him to feel hate and anger

A neurotic sea full of heavy thoughts stormed and came along

Where the waves splashed to the border of his brain cells

To drown his mind, to numb his thoughts, to kill his perfection

But he needed his gain...

To please her, he thought, he was totally insane

 

She was wearing a mask

Like a million women did this night...

If his neurotic mind was calm, he could just smell her

He was close to her, but preferred to chose

His own forced direction...

He was so overloaded with his own perfumed perfection

 

 
To be continued…

 

 

~ Elisa Laura

 

Author's Note

It's just a poetic story, no film script, nothing more than my own creativity, as I did lived in Italy, and walked across some streets in Venice. Sniffed the air, and felt its embrace...

Reviews

[bookworm]

Like a rope around his neck, gives him a feeling and chokes...perfection...looove that line...this is a bit different for you too, Elisa...telling an entire story like this...and I love that it was based on nothing more profound than walking on the streets of Venice, smelling the air, taking it in...it shows your ability to write from places other than our own ego, suffering, personal drama, etc...well done..xoxo

[TheSweet]

This is almost perfection in concept. I am going to be very biased towards this due to a complete belief that epic poetry and stories told in poetic parts (Cantos?) is very mcuh a lost art in dire need of some revival.

So not much to say apart from how much I love it it pieces. Thanks for sharing.

[futurepast.]

Such a wonderful walk - if I may call it like that - as I read along, and as he walked, I kept on wondering what would happen next. You built that mysterious and dramatic atmosphere perfectly and the images were vivid. You used a lot of amazing lines, but my favorite is this one -
"Like an rope around his neck and gives him a feeling he chokes
Tightened with every step he takes,
The way of self destruction he makes, and now much longer...
Does not awake him yet...
The perfection to catch her in his mind is stronger"
This is so powerful, as well as the entire piece, ending with a profound conclusion. I really enjoyed it. Well done.

[sHear]

Found it. I think maybe reading these backwards will make me more objective or something. Anyway, "the King of his blood pressure" is like my favorite thing. Ever. "true trainsmitting fusion" also rocks. They're both good writes but I think I like Part II more just as a whole. Suffering, disillusion, insecure, abuse, all words I read so much in poems that I can't really emotionally respond to them anymore. Only thing that bothers me here is the last three lines of the second stanza sounding a little awkward. Fun to read again.

[Sahar moonlight]

Your poem is interesting and holds the reader in every word.

You've just wrote a masterpiece.

So interesting

[André-J-Franklin]

Being able to craft a piece like this take brilliance...you certainly have it to. I guess it comes from you being in Italy you could willing paint a picture. this is a great read by the way keep up the wonderful work!

[Priscilla Sayers]

Another fantastic write my sweet Elise.

[HopelessDreamer]

Great poem that truely captures the mind. Loved reading every single second of it. The tale told here is beautifully written.

[joshua deathdealer]

omg I've been waiting to read something of this caliber. The dramatic tale here is wonderful. Beautifully weaved and remarkable feel. I like the music too. Thanks for sharing this with us...xx

[EMMIE]

WOW POWERFUL. JUST BRILLIANT

[.:Arianna:.]

Stunning write. So many colours, so many vivid images you pin down...I really enjoyed this one, great job!