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D E I S E L dreadnought

Submitted by Esker on Tue, 2014-09-09 21:15

steams while a grey steel shine
licks her shark lines
her thigh highs creaking
with each long circular sway
step in the haze of crow call
hills and dark plume gridlock
exhaust rising like deaths
perfume
sweet and bitter
like a purse buttered in melted
chocolates
perfume
full of its richness
and Almay
slathered in the tight stitching
the long strap
and sharp buckle
over a shoulder
and against a long
angular throat
the Carotid pulsing
like a wave
sensual
the thin velvet
of down
like a white
aura sheen
light against
the black tint
of the hunched
cars
huffing in the
heat
waiting
for the light
to drop
and the release
rush

buttons of
meds
in blister packs
raised like
moles
something
to finger in pockets
waiting for the
doors to open

the heat drenching
sweat to cup
sweet and sour
tangy
like a song
a lyric
note

and the ghosts
rise from a ring
knuckled toe
to the black ink
scripture
across the
rounded
spine above
the shoulder
s

...

Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

lovedly

Tue, 2014-09-09 22:19

lovedly's picture

too good

Esker

Thu, 2014-09-11 01:15

Esker's picture

rather then an event......my whole life..on the after of something...
....sometimes i question why i write.....all of this buried in archives
and disappearing....but then its the fondness of self that is our sin..
i burned all my works many times.....boxes of it in barrels at night
enjoying the wind in the branches....the sound of the lake....who is
it for.......but even published or not published...this is a value only
if its read.....and soon i will be gone......i feel the fade each day now
i remember the uphill at thirty.....the winters are the worse...
i never find the right woman......but then i turn all those that like my
craft away....those that appreciate my painting aside...i like the
cold stillness of a love missing........i like that hunger of wanting to
know what it feels like..that acceptance.......we tried it here..the
non romantic laying together in bed......she is happy..getting what
she needs....her happiness is not the happiness i desire..so i put
all of it in writing.....i keep moving walking..on the bike..a striking
figure ... too far out to form a contact with anything real...my
bitterness like a thorn bush.....but there is a freedom that gives
the most amazing visions...moments..feelings....
to lose this as what i know of love would be too lose my mother
whom i struggled to understand.....i remember a woman lover
whom threw my collection of things aside once in the snowbank
i was so lost....i could carry all these items..in summer in a pack
forty five pounds of tinned goods....miles and miles....but it was
the boxcars of ghosts...i was gaurding them like a dog on a siding..
not sure what im saying....depression and exhaustion of late..
i put pepple on pedestals...realizing that i have to get into my life
its not going to be what i expected it to be....this is life...
just another period of good writing...but heavy winds..seas..
nothing like true sailing though......god i love feeling like shit
though.......i feel.......alive...................................................

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