Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
There is a side to us which is hidden from all.
It nearly always creeps and crawls.
In darkness it is hidden from sight.
It only comes out when touching the light.
Only then will people see this dark side,
It contrasts the light, then runs and hides.
dreams in colors that don't exist,
and 'mares re dear sir, deadlines missed,
wrestle~arrest poet,
instant awake
in the wee time,
pouring liquidity,
fluids and words,
puddling, stinking,
coming,
from the
always dangerous,
always interesting temple inner inside,
sanctimonious no more sanctum

this particular sleep,
shortened, irretrievable,
bookmarked "closed,"
chapters,
hours too soon,
this rest business,
arrested
filed in an ugly
grey metal file cabinet,
in an unfinished manila prison
with your other unimportant poems

the dark room universe
populated by
hints, shadows, voices,
waiting, welcoming,
mirrors on the walls
unified in one voice
deep, obtuse,
demanding recognition
"hither hither come"

forced march
to a visitation,
to the the parition,
of your reflection,
clearest ever seen,
in the black pitch,
uncovered by guise, feathers
the clothes of normative pretenses,
the man-made borderlines of
preservation falsehoods

seen your own semblance,
parts rearranged,
uncanny,
the mirrors are screaming:
shameful lovely,
this, our artistry,
your apparition,
now accurate,
reflecting your under-
lying
condition,
at last,
an accurate portrayal,
of your inaccuracies

do you find yourself attractive?
this new balance,
the unregulated pieces
of you
before your dissembling,
discerning,
dissecting eyes?

feeling the valence,
an introduction,
a physical magnetism
any attraction
any resemblance
to the semblance
that writes
this s.o.s.?

answer us thus,
do you up
and like yourself
unvarnished,
grunge, swag,
truth  trammeled,
don't you want to kiss yourself
goodbye,
or better yet,
fare thee hell?

go ahead,
ask yourself now,
that one question
that prevents conception,
from your inception,
what is it that
makes you exceptional?

don't you realize,
everything about you
ends in a question mark?

how dare you write poetry?
you are the false poet,
you live on the division
tween artifice and self-deception,
this, your only precept,
and now that you are
clarified,
answer this,
knowing you know
nothing
but artifice,

**how dare you write poetry?
valence - the capacity of one person or thing to react with or affect another in some special way, as by attraction or the facilitation of a function or activity.

semblance - an assumed or unreal appearance; show; the slightest appearance or trace; likeness, image, or copy; a spectral appearance; apparition.

10-22-14
The sadness
Was a black pool
Of a haunting tragedy.

The sadness
Is a suicide
Of a lonely man.

The sadness
Is the gripping of bed sheets
And the clenching of teeth through crying eyes.

The sadness
Are the lonely nights alone
And the agony of vulnerability.

The sadness
Is a contagious disease
A promise of eternal melancholy.

The sadness
Are the sleepless nights
Of empty wishing on dead stars

The sadness
It was an overwhelming emotion
Like a cannibal
Tearing my flesh off my bones
A delicacy of the highest honor.

The sadness
Was a jump from a skyscraper
A slit on the wrist
An overdose off pills.

A merciless dance of death.

— The End —