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Witchvox Chapter: Local Poetry
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Poeem Specs
VxPoem ID: 42813
Category:
other
Posted: August 8th. 2012 7:34:23 PM
Views: 142 |
~The Fifth Body~
by Quate Storm
Age Group: Teen
Well off remembering words, easy to recognize,
but they decay – day by day as the sincerity rots away
And ink is slippery, hard to hold onto like a lifeline,
never was good at keeping track of past lives
Born again
{It’s just a phase, these ramblings of curiosity,
I know that some of my inquiries - can be pernicious,
Well, Doc, how about another happy prescription
because I just have no will, no conviction
to give up this darkness addiction}
Don’t these bruises look good on me,
spent so much time carving them out of my fifth body skin
It’s too easy to forget I had another name, eons ago,
or even that I pulled oxygen into these lungs yesterday
Born again
{I still watch the clock,
wondering when the guillotine will drop,
it’s a paranoia engraved in my genetics, a habit I can’t stop
I’ll just hide out in the corners of bookshops
and read about world havoc}
History really does repeat
and deplete the human population,
why do we still jump trains if we have this information?
Ignore that question because I don’t know
how I died last time, might have been gruesome
[secretly, I hope so, secretly memorable]
Born again
{Got the shakes, the quakes, more than a few backaches,
and finger breaks are just a reminder I’m alive
I really do enjoy a few bleeding moons, now and then,
something I think I realized in life number two,
before here and now, before them and you
could crush my ribs into my dreams and aspirations
just inside my arteries and heart chambers}
Syringes are not the enemy, it’s the blood that’s not cooperating,
tornado warnings sound, you can stop reiterating
Disaster is not a new idea, it’s an old concept of
potential horror and maybe a few broken skulls
but what’s inside that’s worth stealing, sometimes I wonder
I know people think but thoughts aren’t all gems
screw it, I’m just -
Born again
{Quick to catch on to schemes,
even the most well laid plans fail,
That’s a sad though, I like knowing what’s what and what it seems
Things aren’t always what they appear
objects in mirror
are closer than your worst fear
[unless cars are you’re worse fear . . . ]
Maybe if I paint my windows black I could have an easier time of ignoring the scenic view,
the one so picturesque of ocean waves and white beaches
The feeling of sand in my throat is deterring
it’s a memory to which I’m referring
when I was buried alive, buried dead
Born again
{This fifth body has more scar tissue than pigment,
It’s another lifetime to swallow acid, but I can’t complain
If anything take it has a compliment,
the spiral of reincarnation can be kind to the previously slain}
[I think I’ve been slain]
Again
***
Author's Notes: Believe it or not, this actually does have connection to my pagan path. . . Salud ~
Author's Location: Omaha, Nebraska
More Poems: Quate Storm has posted 7 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Quate Storm - Click HERE
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