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| TGI13 series (three parts of the 13) | |
| By Matthiasrising | ||||||||
| 14 October 2007 | ||||||||
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These are three of the 13 of the newest series of poetry I am writing. Gallery Lead brick in the bowl. Thought it would relieve me. Thought it would make me whole. Just made me see what I am; Just saw an empty vessel, Purged of value in the mirror. Take a picture, make nothing. Art is pure and clean All encompassing space. Acid drips down the vase, Pours out through the bottom. Rain dissolved statue; Industrial waste beauty. Copper green residue on the handle. Watch me rust away. Coagulate I sit by the quiet stream, Play in the tinged water, Cough loudly to myself. Mystic spoke sayings in my head Told me things to try. Always have an open mind, But never look him in the eye. The air is dry and still; The rain has all gone away; The stream is drying. Wretched coagulum. Damned mystic shouting Go to bed. Always have an open mind, But never look him in the eye. Semi-gloss finish Sleepy by the window, Caught myself again, Breathing my own silence, Looking for a friend. Spilled it on the carpet, Staining vibrant peace. Fell down calling after you, Can’t let you go too far. Wishing I’m awake now, Aware of all I am; Bob under the current And feel the waves below. Stinging in my sinus, Hornet’s loving kiss; Perfume of a goddess, I won’t remember this. Dying on the inside, Dissolving in my skull, Praying you won’t leave me, And my shattered hull. Husk of what I once was, Abandoned to this bliss; Craving more and more of you And knowing less of me. I can barely see you now, Through the well of tears. You’re just a habit slavedriver, Bastard bottle blue. Stifle my noise, Kill all these senses. I’ll kill myself, if it kills the habit. Throw you in the grass.
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