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Sunday Mourning
Contributed by
nosoup4crr
on
Friday, 29th July 2005 @ 06:59:58 AM in AEST
Topic:
LovePoetry
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I remember deep purple blacklights,
and magical firefly yellows
that teased the darkness—
darkness heavy like a squinted brow.
Everywhere I turned, cold air
found my face like a silk pillow.
It was a Saturday night,
but neon faces revealed only
funeral procession angst.
-No smiles-
You sat Indian style on
cobweb, wooden stage planks,
tuning your guitar like you were
Picking lint from its corners—
you could’ve done it blind,
but kept your head down,
your eyes—the fetal coward,
curled in the corner, taking kicks.
When you stood there, in front,
your protruding hips holding up
your electric guitar—
when you stood there,
and those first syllables
poured through your bitten lips—
when you stood there,
the lights molded around your
delicate ears and sifted through your hair,
and you were a martyr,
Sullen in your sacrificial craft.
Everyone held their breath when
you cried lyrical tears,
and everyone watched,
and wanted to save you.
I imagined you and I under covers.
You were happy and had blue eyes.
I pulled the linen up over my head,
and those same fireflies
lit my mind, and I saw the frail hairs
on your arms and neck glowing
in a dim yellow forest.
And you laughed and you were happy.
Later on, I realized why no one was smiling.
They were watching an execution,
a sacrifice—someone reliving her pains,
and dying all over again.
Copyright ©
nosoup4crr
... [
2005-07-29 06:59:58] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Sunday Mourning
(User Rating: 1 ) by that_gypsy_fire on
Friday, 29th July 2005 @ 12:07:51 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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wow. I really liked this poem. the imagery is amazing, and you conveyed your emotions really well. congradulations |
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Re: Sunday Mourning
(User Rating: 1 ) by Former_Member on
Friday, 29th July 2005 @ 02:00:38 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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I loved this poem, I loved the beatifull affect of the fireflies and the butterfly notions portrayed in the poem, a very very good write. SLipSiX. |
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