Friday, August 14, 2015

sweat on brow, forgotten

[Sorry, Yo: Part 3 of "the wall" will have to wait. Had some highly emotive things hit this evening, not quite in the right mind to craft the complicated form I have planned. So here is a poem.]

The heat that pounds, behind the eyes,
That swells within the gut,
That burns throughout the mind.
O, fevered dream of what may come.

Trials that fail and falter,
Before the moment is done.
Darkening geas grows,
Beyond the sallow sun.

The feats that fall from History,
The moods that change the world,
The call unsaid, unanswered
Casting swine before the pearls.

Delicious Deceptive Desire,
To foil through loin to the Brain
To fill with void, perspiring,
The hand that cuts the vein

[Most of this poem I actually wrote 12 years ago, under the influence of too much pork roast and a massive hangover. 

I've rewritten it a bit, but most of it stands as it was. The final stanza was, however, excised in full. 

This piece remains by far the best thing I wrote during that vodka sodden epoch of my life.]

No comments:

Post a Comment