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Page: Profile: Poetry
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Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 24400
Category:
personal_life
Posted: September 19th. 2006 5:24:44 PM
Views: 651 |
After anger
by Widdershins
Age Group: Adult
My somber expression joined the cracked windshield
And my limp hair whipped about trying to cover my eyes
But only got as far as the corner, hiding my cheeks
Before I tossed it back once more…
My dark clothes contrasted to the mist behind me
and the damp air settles like gentle matting on me, to create
a soft, moist glaze… barely perceptible in the haze, the mind
wandering sky high, and… painfully tumbling down the road
watching the day-to-day cruelty of utter boredom in the mundane…
and the sounds of low consciousnesses playing life’s odd game…
Strength renewed I saunter farther
and gallantly ignore my pestilent thoughts, biting the edge
of my frowning mouth, ready to snarl
at anyone who dares look at me at all…
Being sick is a perceptive experience, by
walking in soft drizzles, and
running a hand over the cold rail… preventing no fall at all,
but soaking in silent testimony of steely and hard support
for a weakened body, tugging themselves upwards…
As I rounded the corner of the second stairs, I saw… someone
old, moving upwards like so… and I rounded back the way I’d came…
suddenly tears emotioned me to movement of heart and memory,
just by the sounds invading me, just like that…
lonely and left alone…
leave me alone…
The fake smell and taste of a new plastic box… in my mouth
as I have no hands left to hold it
the taste and smell make me think of burning old socks,
and I simply let the case drop…
like a dream… it shatters…
cracks and splinters, violently black strips sticking out
ready to be discarded callously as if it was without purpose
without real reason, or right of existence…
just as I had felt.
It’s so ironic to see, like in slow motion
the words that knife me gently scroll upwards…
as if nothing happened in the world…
as if it had nothing to do with my mood or my veiled existence
or my secret, silent pains…
being sick brings them out today… I hate and love them
for their sweet sorrow and bitter contempt…
After anger, striding, slowing, sitting confined by my own doing,
utterly alone with thoughts… about what this day brought…
September 19, 2006
Author's Location: Szeged, Hungary
More Poems: Widdershins has posted 234 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Widdershins - Click HERE
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