~ suspended ~

You breathe out discomfort,

               evoke me from my slumber

pretense of symbolic naiveté,

               listless  in artlessness 

    I  succumb in metaphors

          of lucidity's aesthetic

        mine own inanity bore itself 

                 Redundant metamorphosis

  enchantment of

                old man winter's claw

tucked away smugly

    warped in fusion'd lithium's disorder

rhapsodic inception cease

 to venture in light's flight

I inhaled the deathly elixir

                it seared my soul's tempo

      above perpetual weeping sleep's

 death grip  criticism of

      earthly beings within prose

                      Implied ecstasy & rapture

your means of torture

 held at bay feigning  freedom,

     locked away where love and bliss

                         do not dare not render in verbosity,

          neatly tucked in contrition's

                 cloud'd apparitions

Your irreverence roused

  inert savages,

cavorting demons

                    that dance of spirit expired,

    moonbeams extinquish'd

      in your plight

                naked wantonness amidst

 dim'd life force 

           in this banality of insanity 

                 dancing to this deluded shuffle

~suspended~

 in this nightmarish stanza

         my breath frozen in denial's froth

transgressions wakefulness

 in contempt's

violating arousal 

no poetry in evil's surrender

Salvador Dali ~ woman suspended architecture in the desert

Author's Note

captcha~choky

Reviews

[Pryde Foltz]

Redundant metamorphosis
enchantment of
old man winter's claw
tucked away smugly
warped in fusion'd lithium's disorder
rhapsodic inception cease
to venture in light's flight

The dark of winter seems to sneer at the creative mind at times, as if to say is that all you got. I think you showed him what's what.

[Frieda P]

Thanks muchly Pryde.

[Shirlena]

The Salvador Dali art inspired this magnificent piece of work and is sublime'! It's was so engaging you don't mind it's length... the kind of write that you want more of. I do love the choice of words used to draw we salivating readers in.

[Frieda P]

I knew it was lengthy, and I don't like reading very long pieces myself, glad you got through it, really appreciate the read.

[Lyn Anderson]

This probably means something different to me than intended by you. Either way it chilled and enchanted me but made me angry too ... Great write.

[Frieda P]

Well wow that's good, the more emotions tugged, the better the way I see it, thanks KL.

[Jack...]

Lost somewhere between the chilling white shadows and the poetry, wandering in the small confines allowed by the cold, frosted glass strains the view as everything seems stark, naked, the same drudgery as a skipping LP that you can not reach to bump. Your poem my sweet friend is a deep, dark, delicious slice of how your mind has played against this haunting melodic sound playing inside and out. You take us by the hand and leads us down this path, pointing in different directions and asking, what more could it be?

This work seemed draped across the screen, flowing in wondrous wording and thought, begging us to feel. I felt this one...and am amazed once again by these feelings you produce.

[Frieda P]

I like your review better than my poem Jack, this was one of those frenetic writes, you have to get it all out before it disappears into the ether....thanks so much, your words always humble me my friend.

[Jack...]

Well my sweet friend...you are the poetry, I'm just the wanderer strolling by and smiling.

[Frieda P]

You know wanderers have gypsy souls....they see things with passion through spirited eyes.