Page: Profile: Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 24931
Posted: October 15th. 2006 6:35:50 AM
The electronic folds of the subconscious
Age Group: Adult
In peripheral importance, the lush
of twenty miles hither and thus, had
the winding road ceased to be
ending in the stormy hollows of misery,
wherein lay love’s carnivorous beast
ready to dine on young hearts as feast,
and festering smiles erupted down his long nose
sniffing diligently in laments and prose
to find the sacred unknown…
in the glance off the sunset hill
there stood tall the enigmatic will
waiting for some proof of its inconsistency to be unchecked
the tiny little hole in perception which he filled with neglect
the artwork of dust and expandable space
wherein was to lay the subconscious race—
those few who understood the chemists and electronics
the mind’s underground revolutionary hydroponics
the sole reason for the momentum erect
standing just out of view, impossible to detect…
there the secrecy did weld legacy into the substantial mass
to ever torment the unwary traveler with prisons of glass
the trapping sense that one has no options
but to just let life happen…
popularly named as the mystery of fate
a tricking checkmark that ticked off ‘too late’
before the traveler realized what had gone on
in the musty folds of the subconscious forlorn…
it is the breeding ground of loneliness
the unfilled awe of supposed holiness
wherein reverence took its share of attention
and forever sealed off chances of elimination
to become an unreachable, gaping hole
the drag that had once made life whole
with sweetness and juicy memories of electronic value
the statue of unsustainable and detrimental curfew
and the uncertainty of how its whimsical lines might survive
the purgatory effect of disbelief bred in the heart of the mind
but always successfully demanding status higher than anything
where it becomes the meaning of life – it means everything
the flaw in all halves walking the daylight untroubled
before they realize that their needs and desires have doubled
the sense of injustice at seeing examples
the need to follow without annoying scruples
such as a complete heart as opposed to the torn—
they all seek to fill the emptiness with pain and mourning, all alone
a place where blame may be reflected off the mirrors
and shouted out to the unsuspecting pillows
once known as partners in rest,
now a good place to die, at best…
October 15, 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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