Poem of the Month - August 2017

 
 
 
 
 


 
it's odd how night
blurs the edges
not just of the buildings
but of situations
when the jutting
awkwardness of life
is for a time
merely a matter
of gradations
gently greying
greying into barely  
perceptible  
permutations ..
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
(4)
those minutest artefacts to each scents  
and trail of your magnifying vacuum
wafts around in a strange infusion through  
growing pores that hatches and gobbles  
them in a vital necessity  
 
 
(3)  
It’s your eyes of melancholy  
that had set in fusion with such
phenotypical sparks of mine
that’s dying or perhaps pleading  
to be loved. an intermingled dying
 
 
(2)  
those whispered good mornings  
are hard punched thickly smooches  
over my naked lips and eyes in  
pleasuring shivers of a deep  
kill-drill, and …if such fleshy lacerations touch our souls  
in mergence, am much predisposed to our mutual  
diminutive lustslaughters to lightly liberating layers  
and stardusts  
 
 
(1)  
that enveloping ring of magnetic intimacy, as you
surround me from behind as an arc that’s delicate  
yet draws intense in an unsubdued craving, I know  
you know the nuanced geometries and sutras
 
 
(0)  
your compounding termitic eyes had corroded  
my aroused bosom countless times, still it
cankerously mushrooms towards our  
sweating fertilities moistened inseparably
in anticipatively floating dreamy realities  
 
(-1)  
your lightning reflex in once plucking hard
my fingers away from steaming flows and  
that slightly hidden endtone of tucking them in  
you...say its not just humanity, resinous  
gums bud & bleed in me towards yours  
in the rising  
 
(-2)  
this manic soul  
as if in exaggerated extrapolations  
searches you. just you. from anything  
that's true that the truth appears within  
in visions, from gripping alchemies  
of love in devouted severities  
 
(-3)  
the way you left me....and still more  
that brusque landscapes in brutal silence
where you mangle me in teasers of pain, smells  
of love and it’s thrilling entanglement
 
(-4)  
the wait is forever. the kill the bleed the death  
 
yet in love  
i rise  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

   
my poetry is hidden  
in a room full of long shadows  
cast at five  
   
it resides in the dust motes  
that rain down within  
the only ray of sun that shines  
inside a seedy motel room  
   
a place of despair  
I call it home  
it reeks of failure  
never ending porn plays  
on the television    
this is the last stop  
for all the souls that wander  

lascivious sex with a stranger  
while I write my exit  
out in my head  
   
I lose myself  
for a moment  
in the broken down lothario    
I picked up at the bar  
a desperate attempt at dodging  
loneliness my constant caller  
   
there are no happy endings  
here at the dead end motel  
just cum & sweat  
as tears of regret    
fail to fall    
   
& emptiness leaves  
its final calling card  
   
   
   
   
   
   
Copyright © 2017 Crimsin. All Rights Reserved  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   

 
the rain came  
& brought with it  
sweet serenity  
 
lotus blossoms  
thrive in murky waters  
so can I  
 
a waterfall of perception  
cascades over my thoughts  
eases me into acceptance  
 
with enlightenment
transforms the dark
into a calm pond
where I can grow  
full & lush  
beautifully new  
 
as the pale sun rises  
with gentle rays  
& gives light without any burn  
in my secluded garden of hope  
 
as I transcend the pain  
that confounds me  
I take root with the source  
that feeds & nourishes  
 
& bloom within self  
a warrior soul
to face the world with  
 
 
 
 
 
Copyright © 2017 Crimsin. All Rights Reserved  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A dusty antique;    
faded 30's fabric    
     
Paisley      
     
My grandmother's    
new flaunt; my mother's      
hand-me-down    
 
My inheritance  
     
It'd seen the dust bowl    
of depression; Women's Liberation      
Blacks get the vote      
     
Made Love not War    
( which is why I'm here )  
     
Bone breaking crush    
of Experience stuffing    
its weighty contents      
     
Cornered in a dark trunk    
camouflaged, misfit of Truth    
until the tectonic shift    
     
Catapulted it threadbare      
into the sun, skeletal shards    
puncturing the pattern    
     
It was a stowaway      
of granular debris;    
unbathed stench      
     
When I buried it today    
I asked the Universe      
what took so long      
     
Why withhold the Source;      
I'd gagged half my Life      
catching occasional whiffs    
     
False prophets  
preaching Love    
     
Nodding while paying respects    
It looked back and said,      
     
'You never Trusted enough'    
     
~    
     
 

' If you only knew how the veils were
    killing my days '     -Sylvia Plath

(1)

Lift the veil ---
The secret is revealed.
The numbing millennia
Cannot shake its
Vestiges.

It slithers a substance
Flaccid as a January morn,
Stiffening its shimmering
Substitutions.

It has a heart
As secrets do, it wears a
Suit of grey; its weatherproof
Guaranteed not to fail
Anytime soon.

The still air preys upon it
To silence its last shriek;
To become the Earths' sweetheart
In terraces of drowning.

A germination
Of all the worlds
Fears, fears, fears ---

Its eyes rampantly seeking,
Wrung in metal;
A fate, a fate.

How I never wanted
It revealed, I tried to
Kill it, kill it.

It runs like hell ---
You'll never catch it.

(2)

Timeless and gradient,
Eyes of morning;
Seeking its lies
Written in history.

A guise
To end all transparencies
In a smog of invisibles;
Clouded, curtained
Restitution.

I pry, I pry ---
Into a million efficiencies
Wrung by unknowns,
Captive cries.

Clean and wet
And part of the universe
Dies; I saw it crawl on a
Patch of sky, then in a
Drawer ---

How enduringly scented
By time.

A curious thing,
This paradox I sit upon,
Gazing into multitudes of
Worlds ---

It rattles and shakes itself
Clean to slither by,
Complacently waiting
To watch me die.

(3)

Window on the world
Closing in, a ring,
A hole in the day.
How quick I was to
Cast it away.

Its perspective a gaping
Wound to poultice;
Replaceable and readied.
A pang of solitude gives
Birth to itself ---

Glassy and teary-eyed
Stumbling among frigid
Sanctities; such lies.

How forgiven, I
To breathe that fresh air,
Lemon-scented,
Adding the sums of it
To my own demise ---

I am presented whole
At dawn, then recanted
Short, at eventide.

Nevertheless, I never
Cried for you or me,
Or the thing harboring
Such deciept.

And only a present you
Bring, Oh, Life, and within ---
Such a delicacy of things.

(4)

An historical chapter
Written in stone,
Ungodly stopper
Dead at its center ---

Breathing, stiffening
Miraculous reasons
Wafting its mediocrity
Along a slackening trail
To small injustices ---

Small, trivial and
Unsnared by reason.

Story, Oh Story,
How you allude to my
Enshroudment ---
To end it all, to end it all,
Frankly, there is no logical
Way to do it.

The days are endless
Cumulous in enormity
Unopened in its wrappings.

You stumble in, breathless.
Was it worth its weighty amount
Stamped on a page as
So am I ---

Does it equate to my aspirant
Are the two delicate things enough,
Do you enjoy the unquickening
Of us?

The silence after haunts your
Gorse, as its silken strands
Suffocate your thicket
Of Conquests.

(5)

I see them writhe
In silent screams ---
Her and I, her and I
A mote of improbablilities
Suited for the occasion.

A marriage of destinies
And she, I ---
Wearing delicate
Betrayed innocences,
Papery nakedness,
Sorrowful stillness.

Curtailed otherwise by
Stony nobility;
A Death ---
Slides by the sides of
Your rigid heart,
Oh, History.

Defeat led me to you,
Red and brazen;
A toxic enormity
Floating in your atmospheric
Lungs, and I ---

A miniscule particle
Saying goodbye.

I leave out this window
Framing the fair sky
To become a cloud ---
Daring to try.

The scream had awoken me
Suffocating the stream of
Rantings I tried to hide.

I relished in that last supper,
You opposite I ---
We consumed all but
Our bones.

And there I went
Scarred, annunciated one
Full of unanswerables.

The present is left behind;
The world can marry it ---
Its opening will be my
Ring of finality
Closing in on
Paths narrowing.

And I will expand as
The world shrinks
As meaning
Absolves me,
Awakening to its essence ---
A rapture of mourning.


              -----


     Inspired by these poems:

              ' A Secret '
              ' A Birthday Present '
              ' The Rabbit Catcher '
              ' The Applicant '

                            - By Sylvia Plath

 
 
not just drops of water
a thousand embraces
of bonded elements
 
crashing liquid blossoms
on scarred bodies, scorched souls
reunion of waters
 
calcium walls en-cage
ocean tempestuous
whilst clay assimilates