#1 synth
Weeow!
Join date: Mar 2006
360 IQ
#1
i set a patient aside
for experimentation,
like a needle
sewing through the pages of a bible,
wild imagination wild
constellations to shine a spotlight in between;
a pinhole picture, a holy man doused in fire...

and then there i am shuddering
on the floor of a white walled memory
wondering where the pigment got off to

soon, too soon,
great goodness in the heart on the surgeons bedside table
barely able to recognize the quickening eyelashes of its old master
rising soul like a creek over a body that has given up prematurely

surely,
those who deserve to one day live purely,
live again until they do

surely,
no good person dies without the staple of the cross
and no bad person dies without the promise of truth
smartalecG94
Just my Bronze showing
Join date: Feb 2011
31 IQ
#3
Quote by punkforlife93
I don't think you need anyone to tell you how fantastic this is

This.
Quote by captainsnazz
That's some nice hair you've got there.


I'm watching you.


Quote by BottleOfSmoke
If I was a rich man in 17th century Britain, I'd totally adopt Alec and make him my heir.

People say I tan easily, but that's just my Bronze showing through.
AngryGoldfish
do I "urk" you?
Join date: Jul 2005
1,048 IQ
#6
Congrats, Dylan! This was a masterclass in poetry. I'm still reading through it to decipher a meaning for myself, but I'll get there eventually.
#1 synth
Weeow!
Join date: Mar 2006
360 IQ
#8
pt. 2

i stayed up late to watch the bombings on gaza,

poured buckets of ice water upside-down my nostrils
but it wasn’t enough to satisfy,
so i peeled off my own fingernails with pliers
and there were live children shriveling mummified in dust,
nine women lined up in unzipped bags faces hardened in curses and lust,
i cut into my chest with hanging nails so hard that god could feel the rust
i prayed, to the possibility of a sudden radical quiet
everywhere all at once until there were no hooded men left on screen...

after the journalist was shot his camera kept rolling on in the silence of its own gearbox
while i stalked the gun my arm dragging
out of its socket, fingers twitching like limp rockets

and when i caught my eye with a fish hook and had shot an open wound in my thigh
and the mirror bearing witness, and my vocal chords dangling bloody and dry,
and in the sunrise on the live stream i could see the moon's shadow vaporize,
i realized that no one deserves to die,
not even i