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Soil House

I won't be wearing shined, leather shoes
and a collar to cover my discoloured skin
on my day;
the soil will bulge as the sea expands
and boxes will have to be made smaller.

No salt will reverse oil
and all will succumb to the wish of waves
as they spur my lowering by undeft hand,
the ropes untether the falsification
of eternity.

Nose points towards winter-midnight,
freezing everything that burnt
(from crisp to crisp)
laying hopeful, in summer's wake;
etheric breath taunting the lungs
that have long since curdled, draping bone
and I have never been so at home.

Written by MrAlptraum

(Mr A)

Published 31st Oct 2012

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Re: Soil House

Anonymous

31st Oct 2012 8:28am

This is really quite profound.

I like the first stanza the most I think. "the soil will bulge as the sea expands" is my favourite line. Maybe it's because the word bulge is such a joy to say.

"etheric breath taunting the lungs
that have long since curdled, draping bone
and I have never been so at home."

These lines deserve a round of applause. 'Etheric breath' is a good choice of words. The two words together physically sound like little whisps of breathing, which really wraps up the imagery at the end. I also think that you nailed it with the ending. It stops, dead, with its ultimate statement and full stop.

And with that, we reach the end, and I am left feeling saddened by the subject matter but oddly calmed by the lyrical description of death. I think it was Indie that once wrote about how poets have this horrible habit of making everything sound beautiful. This reminded me of that fact.

A fine piece of writing of which you should be very proud.