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Lament For The Avenues...
6">Lament for the avenues are no longer new
And all of the small noises rattling
Through the pastel curls of the evenings’ subtleties
Are merely made from the footsteps
Of another face we all find familiar
And we never find the beauties of time
Dying on the coastline of the night
No we never find these beauties
Buried in mauves and blues
Alongside the corpse of the sun.
Lament for the avenues are splintered
In complexities of corroded adolescence
And yet the elders remain alike in cruelty
Where the sky is not bejeweled in soft aroma
But discolored by the cities within
If only the holocausts of ignorance
Would come to a halting awareness
Of the self and the connections surrounding
And if only these metropolitan characters
Would stop being insects in their slow sleep
And see the sides of being that they keep hidden
Under the heftily pomaded falsehoods
Of a nonexistent ethic they call dignity
Taking away any notice of the rising fall
To this infinity to be forgotten beside an oasis
Of blood and stainless steel indifference.
Lament for the avenues are just for walking
And not for recognizing good times
That have been with us in the cool making
And the streets have been shooting the smiles
Off of pedestrian faces for a quick security
Of the shooters’ guiltless pleasures
Yet the pistol mark is still made on bliss
So the addicts can receive their lethal kiss
From the apex of something called desperation
To the warm bereavement of their poisoned minds.
Lament for the avenues can never be childish
Or accompanied by the enjoyment of being alive
And we lie back across the ennui of quiet rooms
Aimlessly staring into this tangled network
Wondering why ghosts continue to tread
Upon the crackled surfaces of the ground
Where not much freedom is experienced
Other than camouflaging what’s left of your soul
Under a well-kept sleeve that will never rise
To be glanced by daytime or caressed by nightfall.
Lament for the avenues are crumbling away
And screaming out blasphemy through each footstep
For there are no more angels to smile at
As they flutter their gems in a flashing reflection
To disappear from the pavement like a foreign fancy
For now we can look outside from our bedrooms
And watch the funeral of these streets proceed
If we may glance out from the personal destructions
Of our front doorsteps if even for an instant
We would catch a strange scene in view
Of coffins shining like ornaments
On the concrete of every single street
There would be a coffin for me and you
And anyone you may have ever knew
From the birth of any boulevard
To the dead end of any common lane
A mass interment continues among us
Simply waiting for us to carry on.
Lament for the avenues are crying
In a sleep too cold to breathe
From the company of harsh dreams
And no one will notice the sobbing
Of memories abandoned on any streetcorner
Until they have gone off with silence, alone.[/font]
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Published 8th Nov 2009
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Anonymous
8th Nov 2009 2:24pm
abandoned in streetcorners' and 'buried alongside the corpse of sun'-i love those expressions.its amazing how u can find poetry in the daily grind.Could I suggest u to arrange the poem into stanza , each beginning with the refrain "lament for the avenues---" u have used, i guess that would make ur poem say more.just a thought!i enjoyed this one.
9th Nov 2009 00:16am
and one other poet leave me speechless, well tickless... as i've stated to other said poet, i always have something to say (don't most of us) but i'm sitting here mulling, and can't find the words...
