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Literature Text
tonight
everything is
raw
ribcages have been
unlocked
and swing open like saloon doors
bare lungs swell
with cigarette smoke
you can see the rot
in every exposed liver
the black edges of toxic hearts
dripping
swinging hips grate against one another
bonedust like sawdust in the air
switchblades click open
and the booze flows like water
oxygen has been replaced
by the beat
of a thousand drugged up hearts
everything is
raw
ribcages have been
unlocked
and swing open like saloon doors
bare lungs swell
with cigarette smoke
you can see the rot
in every exposed liver
the black edges of toxic hearts
dripping
swinging hips grate against one another
bonedust like sawdust in the air
switchblades click open
and the booze flows like water
oxygen has been replaced
by the beat
of a thousand drugged up hearts
Literature
Her Life
I saw her life in those eyes
with cut-throat stares
and withered looks of daze,
each lid half open
and their cores darted where
they thought it was safe.
Her pupils swirled as hurricanes
with streaks of rain
maroon across a razor blade.
Sharing what words can't speak
and luring in the
sting of the day.
I saw her life in that skin,
painted with a tiny needle that could
delve deeper in what she knew
and who she was, then what.
Like an apple tossed aside to rot
darted across were plum-hue stains
and beautiful scars, an abstract dance of
healing and hurt.
Covered in what she screamed,
her body was masked in poetry,
long-tol
Literature
Nocte
Hiding from the beast,
From tree to tree,
Running in the dark,
I tell myself such things,
Slow- so it won't find you,
Breath.
These fires have scorched far and wide,
Leaving the scent of my former cinders to linger in my head,
Like some bad bender,
Warped memories encircling grey,
The ground is made of shattered glass,
Broken dreams.
No lilies remain,
To any kingdom I run,
In mirrors of liquid glass,
Surrealist battles are won,
And like fear,
The spider crawled from my mouth.
They are sedating everything,
Brush pixilated,
Focus changing,
Leaving me to run in the dark,
Caught in the eye of the storm,
Hiding in the calm.
Literature
the end of an era
i will not be
staying behind in the city: asleep
to be blind, to not see the flames
licking the buildings in my mind.
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I wanted to try writing without punctuation or capitalization.
What does it make you think?
Questions For Critique:
Does it seem too disjointed?
Do you think it could be expanded or shortened to give a better effect?
Do some of the stanzas seem too random or confusing?
What does it make you think?
Questions For Critique:
Does it seem too disjointed? Do you think it could be expanded or shortened to give a better effect?Do some of the stanzas seem too random or confusing? © 2011 - 2024 SugarHeartedGirl
Comments38
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1) It's not disjointed at all, almost every stanza contains parts of the human body. It just grows and flows from the first stanza. For disjointed, try ~a-secret-key 
she writes wonderful images, though.
2) and 3) If anything (and this is me being nitpicky), the penultimate stanza is the most random one to me and I think the poem could stand without it. Maybe you'll have to integrate the idea of booze and teeth (switchblades, right?) in another stanza. Meh, it's fine like this!
Clubbing stripped bare, that's what this poem is to me and I love it.
she writes wonderful images, though.2) and 3) If anything (and this is me being nitpicky), the penultimate stanza is the most random one to me and I think the poem could stand without it. Maybe you'll have to integrate the idea of booze and teeth (switchblades, right?) in another stanza. Meh, it's fine like this!
Clubbing stripped bare, that's what this poem is to me and I love it.