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synergy

and like the frenzy of madmen
you've been stabbing it
and stabbing it
and stabbing
yet nothing dies
directly related to your fury
the world does not
desecrate itself
anywhere near
how a whore does
when
no matter how she tries
she will never be
that small girl with
her hand in her mother's
the smile on her face
and the promises of
bigger things

you felt her belly
and how it moved
from within
apologized to her
knowing you would not
be there to see birth
simply trusting yourself-
life was not
cannot sustain insanity
no matter how normal it seems
you are caught
cornering a prayer
from the slack of your mouth
a cigarette dangles
from opposite sides
and just like we are
polar
we fall down together
reeking of each others sex
gasping for air
clawing out the sky
of all its extraneous colors
you ask me to save you
which i am not ordained to do
i can absolve fear
while you harden in my mouth
take your mind from
the last place it forgot
so you can remember
what it felt like to forget
but i am not your unknown
i am feel and taste
not blessed or graced

and if you murmur me
when you find a confessional
i'll deny we ever met

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
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Comments

Well I think us Aussies can take little swearing now and again...thank you sincerely for that comment for saying it may inspire a poem, I love it when people feel the work I do it's more important to me than accolades, if you feel it then my muse has done it's job well.

Chez
"The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she does a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, to see if anybody notices it - and to makes sure that somebody does." - Nietzsche

author comment

Oh I can't wait to read it JC, I am so pleased.

Chez
"The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she does a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, to see if anybody notices it - and to makes sure that somebody does." - Nietzsche

author comment

What is the sound of one hand clapping? This poem.

The ending is to die for.

~A

Thank you Ana, you and JC have made my cold night a lot warmer here. xx

Chez
"The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she does a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, to see if anybody notices it - and to makes sure that somebody does." - Nietzsche

author comment
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