#1
“I-I don’t know-w siir
I’m soory”

Because life is too long,
eternal grace, a fleeting marrow
that will be the day.
There is nothing but movement
on an auburn chariot;
beyond the channel of pestilence.

I’m not afraid to die.

The Black garment
is lifted. Depart
dig their graves;
venture under the water.
Go before me
as a consuming fire
and consume my enemies.
Turbulence has devoured me.

Son, you are delusional,
tame your tongue.
The plans they made
put an end to you.
I feel inclined,
alone again or
resting bones
beneath the staircases;
giant steps
where the hills become plane.
The barren spiral
within the streams
soaks the wild flowers;
the visitor
is my destroyer.
Last edited by Bleed Away at Aug 2, 2009,
#2
I found this extremely interesting. At first I thought it was the classic artsy dreamer-son being talked to by a practical father but it's weird how the father character here uses very flowery and vague dream-like language. Could you tell what this poem is about?
Quote by icaneatcatfood
On second thought, **** tuning forks. You best be carrying around a grand piano that was tuned by an Italian
#4
I will try to read again and see if I get it.

it seems like this needs the reader to know the appropriate background knowledge before they can understand it.
Quote by icaneatcatfood
On second thought, **** tuning forks. You best be carrying around a grand piano that was tuned by an Italian