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.

[EdwardBlue]

The funny thing is so many control the space because their self is so lost and out of control. The understanding of the subject is so personal it's disorienting.

Powerful clear to people who didn't have that experience. Beautiful as usual.

[bookworm]

Damn woman, you don't play....I think I just gouged my keyboard digging my nails in while my anxiety heightened as I read this. As always, beautifully, brilliantly, perfectly executed....

[EMF]

What a wonderful metaphor. Absuteley sublime peotry, playing with words and ideas. Sheer perfection. Even sensual in its way. truly marvelous

[Kyle]

Holy crap! This got to me. Did this really happen? I have heard of this having to happen..

[Dahlia Phoenix]

"There are no curtains to hang,
we're made vulnerable by these transparent shears.
The neighbors looking in,
wondering who is to blame."

This writing was in depth of comparing a fixed home to what external beauty truly is. Some people have the beautiful million dollar smile but the reality is that they have no sense of right in their hearts making them even more ugly. Red is a perfect color for the expression you were intending. Nice write.

[SkinlessFrank]

Sometimes we consume a batch of bad oysters. There's not much we can do about it except to purge ourselves.

[TheFemininePad]

Wow. Definitely a two sided polar opposites poem. I like how it starts out really beautiful, and then works towards how you intend to restore the home with fire. A fire to purge everything that had gone wrong. Beautifully written with a really intense point that definitely comes across. Great job!

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Such emotion in your words...I could feel the heartbreak...well written....

[roarke]

don't forget the marshmallows.....

a great homage to "ya gotta do what ya gotta do."
Money pits can be like the La Brea tar pits.... bottomless. Use the ashes on the flower garden.

nice write.

[Samuel Dickens]

I'm not sure if this is an actual experience or allegory, but either way, the sad frustration comes through. Fire is often the answer to rebirth.