Gasoline

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  We tried to fix up a home,

a two car garage, white picket fence, with a flower bed.

 

 Surely we could not have known,

our diminutive secrets carried by termites would spread.

An infestation grows within these walls like a dam under pressure.

 

 CONTORTING.......

 

((((Swelling))))

 

From all of our weight, and untimely measure.

 

Rusting pipes from my leaking tears.

 

There are no curtains to hang,

we're made vulnerable by these transparent shears.

The neighbors looking in,

wondering who is to blame.

                                       

Even with more primer and paint,

I cannot make these walls talk.

I cannot make you a Saint.

 

The ceiling is falling in...... 

This plaster is crumbling down.

 

So I will restore this home with gasoline,

and light a match to wipe the walls clean....

Reviews

[VennelaMargame]

Can I go on an allusion tangent again, Muse?

The beginning reminded me a little of the song "No Surprises" by Radiohead. "Such a pretty house / and such a pretty garden....I'll take the quite life / a handshake of carbon monoxide..."

If you've ever heard the song, you know the sort of heady, balloony feel that the diminished sixth and seventh tones give it. Sort of like what happens when you inhale the vapors of gasoline.

P!nk also had a song about wanting to "burn this f****r down," if I recall, because it was full of bad memories. It was called "Funhouse."

I once wrote a short story called "My Name is High Hopes," written from the perspective of the famous Amityville murder house, in which the house explained that it IS cursed, because it's forced to watch its humans screw up their lives and make each other miserable, and then get blamed for it because it is a big, dumb, defenseless object, and cannot speak up for itself.

[Pax Analog]

I love the seamless way this poem flows from home maintenance to heart maintenance issues.

Reminds me of a song I used to vocally warm up on, Bowie's "Cat People" w/the line "I've been putting out fire w/gas-o-LINE."

Purification takes many forms. Strong work.

[sienikeha]

"..restore this home with gasoline" lol
ah, i'm in the middle of reno. in fact i should be priming right now!

[Muse]

xo love your work too!

[The Analog Kid]

Very expressive and I dig the metaphors you used. The last line rhymes so awesomely too:)

[Muse]

I'm the Queen of metaphors.

[Alicia Schroeder]

Your work is always so brilliant and unique, I love your style of writting :)

[Muse]

what a wonderful compliment, thanks Alicia!

[Alicia Schroeder]

Your welcome, You are an amazing writter :)

[Clockwork]

Pardon the pop culture reference, but this poem reminds me of the song by Eminem and Rihanna. It shows the process of urban decay and the devastating results of a relationship that just wont mesh. The line "I cannot make you a Saint" is my favorite overall. I think this poem also shows the perverse voyeurism that borders upon emotional vampirism which often occurs in American in this age.

[Muse]

I wrote this poem before Rihanna and M&M made that song. ;) I deserve the gratuities. lol

[Clockwork]

Haha, Amen to that!

[EMF]

OK. Just needed a fix. I can give it up any time I want to. But why would I want to?

[Potter]

Such chilling reality! Very nice.

[Kaylor Mason]

I love how you used the house as an allegory for a relationship--a sanctuary within the heart. The imagery was perfect in the sense of long-kept secrets, silent weeping and dishonesty slowly corrupting her foundations . . . and the relationship comes crashing down like a rotted house. I love how you clean it with fire. Only one thing to do from there: start fresh and build a new house with the same lover, or go homeless for a while, until another heart is willing to take you in and a new home begins. The allegory is perfect

[olla]

ps.. I love the pic too.. it looks like she is dusting off her hands..

[olla]

I like this one too.. nothing better than a good cleansing fire... I even roasted marshmallows over one of mine..