Ton Up

whispered images

in the wine filled void

no truth

no answers

questions, lies

dream the undreamable

nothing possible to explain

mechanics of the world ramble by

onion skinned hope

shredding

leaves of deceit

peeling away the paint of decades

A  naked bulb is prey to hunger

the strongest drug known

building cities

destroying land

creating art and greed

an insatiable beast called we

climax, empty fisted

into next year's plan

swallow refuge

spitting nails

flickering barbed wire muscle tongue

guillotine expression in the name of

con/

fession

con/

versation

nothing talk 10 million years

nothing hear and

nothing see

monkey world fiasco

neurons pulsing

electric charge

called thought

a spark igniting fire

burn the anxious world into piles

of lost remains

recite

battle hymn cry prayers

on mats of  woven hair

beneath phallic gold

Silence as command

purging deeper

ignore yourself

trust in non belief

the powdered rich rose petals

march steadily on god

 to evaporate in time

bones to rust

and rust to dust

in dust we trust

is the only view

is the lonely blue

Reviews

[Eilis]

So, I’m always analyzing titles for insights. And looking at this one and connecting it back to the internal domestics of the poem, I sort of feel like we’re talking about a love that hit hard and fast, but quickly turned into some kind of painful extended affair where both parties were hurt.

There are some really stand out ideas/analogies here. That naked bulb image is extraordinary. And hunger as the driver behind all human action whether leading to baseness or greatness. There’s a satisfying accuracy to that section that really stands out for me. Like hunger is the leading force, but if we don’t learn how to temper it or understand its primacy, when can quickly become lost to it and a kind of prey ourselves. I know that not the focus of the poem but I really just appreciate the thought behind that part.

And then the image of guillotine expression. Man, that is inspired poetry. The kind of accuracy I’m always striving for when I try to express the truth of experience.

Overall, there’s a bit of mystery for me. A lot of the language speaks of love slipping away, but also it’s like this internal battle, so perhaps the love itself is the source of a few different angles of pain and confusion.

The ending is quite bleak, but at the same time signifies a resolution and an end to the chaos of the poem as the speaker resolves to be alone rather than continue in the confusion. At least this is how I’m reading it just now.

So the storm has rolled in without warning and the choices for escaping alive are also sources of difficulty or pain, so there are no easy answers.

Feel like I’ve just completely misread this, but I’m going to leave my view through the trees. I really enjoyed the poetry of this. Such an abundance of lines I’d like to steal, haha.

[gram linski]

hey, Eilis thanks again for another great review, there was definitely this sense of unravelling going on of things falling apart, that ruined love and the hunger thing being the driving force whether for food or love or power, money and isn't love always the source of pain and confusion that what breaks us again and again, and still we go back for more , think the end bit is a bit bleak in that we all fade away and die, but ultimately the soul is alone as it enters it's next journey think I've just misread this, haha, thanks again, Eilis for taking the time and thought to make some kind of sense out of this and explain it to me, always appreciate your input,

[gram linski]

seem to have lost the power for articulate speech in that comment, it sounded so much more refined in my head, lol, you know my feelings on inspiration/steal, let it flow,

[Laurel Oak]

I really liked the rhythmic pattern the second half of the poem, a feeling of impuissance in that rhythm and it continues, these patterns are potent. It leaps with energy from negative capability, Keats was doing it, I think the ending was universal meaning, everybody makes his own answers, though I understand it so that you meant there is no meaning in any thinking, it worked like juxtaposition in the poem. Good ending lines. (where is all the other poetry, you deleted didn’t you)

[gram linski]

thanks for the review Laurel, glad you enjoyed this one, not sure about the deleted poetry have got a fair back catalogue, appreciate the read

[Einstein Noodle]

this:
"mechanics of the world ramble by
onion skinned hope"
and this:
"A naked bulb is prey to hunger
the strongest drug known' ..are killer sir! ... how human beings have mucked around eh!? for millenniums ... greed and i will add avarice are forever our destroyers .. and we miss true meaning by a very wide margin :( ....... surely we will return to dust ... (carbon science is a rock) ;) i am thankful you leave me staring at the blue .... i add a touch of fluffy cloud and golden sunshine for sure ;) reading your poem has got me goin' ..... peace and joy!
E.
ps. ton up is a new one for me ... pretty cool! tho i still ride ... my fast days are satiated

[gram linski]

thanks, E, aye you are right about the greed and avarice and the fluffy cloud and sunshine sound great on this dreich day, peace and joy, back at, brother, take care over there

[Einstein Noodle]

love that title! "Ton Up" ..great stuff! ;)

[.]

A very dramatic write, gram! Through all these jumbled images the idea of man's decay is what keeps coming to me. How we are born, live, create, destroy and eventually just become the dust of biblical definition. When read like this, our lives appear so troublesome and wasteful. There must be a higher point to life than just going through these motions until our time is past. The write is full of interesting and startling images that push your idea along to its finality. One that is open to a great deal of interpretation if some of these lazy online cafe vagrants care to try! A real thinking man's poem!

[gram linski]

thanks for your kind words, Jamila, your last couple of lines made me laugh, no-one likes a thinker, lol, did you enjoy your Lorca,

[.]

Yes, i did, gram. Admittedly it was a small snippet of his body of work but he was a very visual poet.