HOME | DD
chugglepuff — Life Support
Published: 2008-10-17 11:01:03 +0000 UTC; Views: 281; Favourites: 4; Downloads: 6
Redirect to original
Description
We are incisions that cannot hurt,spite from a man too vapid
to preach revolution in his speech
that didn’t make it to youtube.
What’s left of me and you?
Just a criminal corpse left hanging;
a life forbidden to drop, to end with a full-stop.
We are our own endless soliloquy--
our rantings, healed of feeling,
the actor’s barren face
less memorable than the background.
What remains is spotless;
the bleach and disinfectant coil in our nostrils
as we watch ourselves grow stagnant
in the gleaming of the mirror,
just memories of a dream still rattling your skull.
These waters are tired and frigid;
we float, flaccid, the relics of wrecks
from a storm that faded away.
We are too cold to hurt,
too warm to stop clutching to driftwood.
All that holds us here is inertia and apathy,
lethargy and suitability;
and perhaps that is all these things ever are.
Related content
Comments: 15
Beautiful poem.
I think the fourth stanza could use improvement, for me, it is too lengthy to keep the poem going. Just a feeling, though.
"too warm to stop clutching to driftwood" - I particularly liked that line, it generates a strong image.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
Thank you very much!
Mmm, I agree with you there; I would just cut it out but then the rules of the contest meant that I was pretty limited with my options... Maybe I'll think of a way to make it add more to the piece someday...
Hehe, that's one of my favourite lines too!
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
I really like that first stanza, it pulled me in the second I read it, and I always love a strong opening. First two lines are especially strong, good imagery, and relatable.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
Wow, this is...pretty freaking awesome for forty minutes.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
Thank you very much for the kind words and fav!
👍: 0 ⏩: 0
It seems like a melancholy poem, which I'm guessing it was meant to be. I rather like it, even though you say it was 'rushed'.
My favorites lines are probably the first stanza(?):
"We are incisions that cannot hurt,
spite from a man too vapid
to preach revolution in his speech
that didn’t make it to youtube."
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
Yeah, it's a fairly generic sort of mopiness, but it was really difficult to give a specific story with such a stiff, set form...
Thanks for all your support, my lovely lass!
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
That's a really interesting contest concept. The first line digs a grave for me that I can't escape until the poem is over. Considering the difficulty of the task, very well-written, or should I say, re-written?
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
Interesting yet cruel... 
Thank you very much for the kind words!
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
What’s left of me and you?
Just a criminal corpse left hanging;
a life forbidden to drop
That's desperate and aching and soulful stuff
👍: 0 ⏩: 1