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The Recoil of Love
Contributed by
Xbxg32000
on
Monday, 11th December 2006 @ 09:05:31 PM in AEST
Topic:
LovePoetry
|
Crisp,
rings my scorn for you.
Defiance is at play here;
drilling craters in your canvas.
I stare as each letter cracks off,
literature is being ripped out of the air.
These bullets sing in glory.
Slicing through every screech that slipped your mouth,
Remorse burns in this fire; arms with a grip for life,
tighter than our attachment.
Electricity; spitting arrows that have their own heartbeat,
this room splattered with countless pages of our romance.
The paint on the walls shine slick,
with a luster hinting at what was revenge.
An ocean of victory collides into my ears,
screaming what I have commanded them to.
These strings will not snap,
as hearts do.
Eyes swoop shut; skin snuggles into place,
forming a smile.
Loyalty has found me, listening to my every word;
this poison inflicts whomever I desire.
It's shock wave pierces through my skin,
sliding through every crevice lying inside.
Infesting my heart, tearing it's way inside;
soothing it into tranquility.
Notes float into the air,
staring at the glass within each window.
Every pane shatters in awe,
at my passionate embrace with hate.
Time is stitched back together within this enclosure;
these fingers thread through strings of steel,
as this guitar sings.
---
Author's Notes
---
Written after many problems with a significant other. This poem takes place in a room where a male is playing his guitar, feeling the emotional depth of the music that his fingers create. It allows him to realize that his relationship with the guitar is rather different, as the guitar will agree with whatever he says--a relationship with no guilt, yelling, or any breakup.
The male has recently gone through his most emotional part within his life. He is no longer with the person whom he was with for more than a year. However, he is not depressed about the departure anymore; as his partner did things that only got him angrier and allowed him to realize that she was going on the wrong road.
The sounds created by the guitar fill the room and speak for his words and emotions. Thus, it listens to his every word and is very loyal. It brings him comfort and happiness, allowing him to smile after all that has happened. The walls and glass windows surrounding him within the room are at shock that he is happy, even after something so significant and emotionally tearing happened to him.
I hope you enjoyed the poem. Comments are much appreciated :).
Copyright ©
Xbxg32000
... [
2006-12-11 21:05:31]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Recoil of Love
(User Rating: 1 )
by Ratwick on
Monday, 11th December 2006 @ 09:17:24 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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I really liked the poem! I play guitar and that is the only thing in my life that has never dissapointed me. I have also just gone through a break up and I know what you mean, your guitar speaks what you cant say and tells you what you need to know. Just take some advice, as hot as it freakin is, DO NOT let your girlfriend hump your guitar! It creates an attachment of her on your guitar and poisons its soul. You can't look at it the same.
Write On!
Peace |
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Re: The Recoil of Love
(User Rating: 1 )
by lyddie on
Tuesday, 12th December 2006 @ 10:27:05 PM AEST
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a Message)
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thats a great poem!
lydia |
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