Morphine For Gods~

~collaboration with my son, OT~

 

I found my soul

a coralized stain on the lisp of a ship in a dirty bottle

buried against the hip of a goddess on a bender

 

She dipped her calcamite finger into a rock and inhaled amaretto clouds

to see beyond the patchwork buildings and rag-doll people

that littered the corrugated shore

 

But all she saw was a girl named White caught in a red dress,

failing at redress

swaying a little too close to the cliff's edge

a ceramic bowl in hand, cradling ashes

and crafted from her broken arms

on a potter's wheel

eons before inside a labyrinth where drunken gods

were plunged in intervention

shooting up on stars and snow

and bound in yellow chiffon bows

 

The girl stepped out onto the horizon

fell upward to pour her skin in flares against the sun's breath

the Son's Death

crucified on a eulogy

as she dissolved into a liquid stone

that dripped from the goddesses tapping fingers

and twisted around the naked man bent into a wedding band

on the second digit of her sixth finger

his scales irridescent

his smile a ghost bleeding from his lips

 

Bountifully wine soaked goddess

a wreath of purple grapes around her ample middle

surly

unsated,

wearing sand in her hair and water in her skin,

she pumps a plum vein

around a thousand bruises

and injects herself with concentrated humanity;

but there's a reason gods are immortal

and so it comes to pass that the

goddess can't cope with the sublime agony

of eternal souls trapped in fragile shells

 

and so she crumbles in a heap of threads and golden fleece

and is swept away by the sea

in shells and fibres

 

I reclaimed the bottle and stepped onto the shore

with doubloons tattooed under the firm bone of my jaw

a beat wedged in my heart,

a kerouac drum and ginsberg scream rippling through birdcage ribs

and cracking the air,

as the gods looked on with a bottle in hand

and advised me I could dye my death any colour I wanted

 

I crumble beside them,

their eyes lost in a threadbare sky,

slaves to ecstacy

beside a wagon

raining addicts

on the shores

 

copyright2011:samot/vssmd

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Reviews

[Amy Bumpas]

I really like these lines:The girl stepped out onto the horizon

fell upward to pour her skin in flares against the sun's breath

the Son's Death

crucified on a eulogy

as she dissolved into a liquid stone

that dripped from the goddesses tapping fingers

and twisted around the naked man bent into a wedding band

on the second digit of her sixth finger

his scales irridescent

his smile a ghost bleeding from his lips
Your words are always so visual, all on the tip of our tongues for
a taste:) Nice collaboration:))

[Tommy]

The sublime minds of two divinities of word…You two blend so well!!! “White Pony” could fly so high, not even the gods would attempt a ride…And some just plunge because they like the feeling… It isn’t the jump but the fall that excites…

Great Write You Two!
RLG,
Tommy

[Andreisfree]

...absolutely stunning...Ginsberg and Kerouac would be proud...if my brain is putty in your potters hands...what would that make you?

[Robin]

a surreal vividscape that twists from a binary imagination ~

[Aidz]

Imagery that conjures up sweet dreams of synthetic healings injected in blue

Keel colab

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

"...the lisp of a ship...." Physically I cannot see how lisp and ship relate in the least. I even researched to attempt an understanding. My only rational idea of what you could have meant was the 'sh' sound in ship that sounds a bit like a lisp. Therefore, it would a stain on the beginning of the ship, no?
'Calcamite' is not a dictionary word. However, it does relate to sanitation, but it caused me to have to look it up. Seeing as it refers to the selling of sanitation devices I feel that it was improper for the Goddess' finger to be called as such.
"...on a bender; She dipped her.... that littered the corrugated shore." I had assumed that the 'bender' was on the shore of you 'ship-in-a-bottle-soul that was on her hip. However, she somehow is swept into it. You then reclaim the bottle (that I assumed she was swept into) and achieve 'God status' (along with the power of your literary magnificence). So, in conclusion, the way I saw it was that she fell into your soul and you captured her and used her power. Then, other 'gods' show you they have been doing the same thing and you do it as well. I don't actually feel that this was the true intention of the poem, but physically that is how I saw the plot.
Metaphysically, however, this was an amazing work. I would definitely ask for revision and clarification due to the wonderful nature of this poem. The authors are my favorite on WC and it's phenomenal that they did a collaboration piece. It bleeds with surrealism and inspiration so I have done my best to give constructive feedback.
Wonderful work, thank you for your submission.
SAS

[OT]

:) 'twas fun - and surreal of course

[LA Lorena]

A good, another collaborative effort between you two! There is no finer pairing for sure! Your styles and minds just seem to meld together like no other, and we, the readers are always blessed with the resulting gems. This is no exception.