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noand-hegaskPoems
My vessels My veins My vessels My fiend My pen I never strayed My lungs I do disdained My legs not rightly placed My hands, beyond tangled This is just some words about The ethereal wandering spine: Made of hard candled wood To be laid cold on the lane The ghost of it, I dare say, wandered around Spoken of shame and of the nomads And in silence, it sew the raging sea Into yarns of distraught constellation All in this ill world, not above The spine was of rage and of distress Wished forever to stop standing still And forever more, laid to rest As broken bones, as thousand glasses To be unnoticed and blend as well Fifteen years of shame Haven’t eaten Fifteen years of shame Haven’t beaten But bathe in dirt To blend means to fade away And to fade means to accept Annihilation and memories that may Dangle from the tip of your bones Why would you Or the spine Take it for granted, wish it to be true? Truth be told; a spine helps you to stand still Aside from your legs and your partial heart Imagine; if it wander aimlessly Where would you belong, and where would you stand? But still the spine wanders around To reign upright on its own Then decorate beauty of its own Oh, and perhaps, again Blend in as well as to fade away Away Away Away From you From: Fifteen years of shame Haven’t eaten Fifteen years of shame Haven’t beaten But bathe in dirt— And could not stay Look at your spine Which you can’t see, why are you so sure That it is there? Look at the spines On your surrounding: Lampposts Broomsticks Electric poles Candles Pillars Look at the spines That stand on their own Just a single stick And nothing more. Believed to be incapable Wished to be broken shards Ended up standing still For eternity, for darkness beyond And what are you Without them? Just a lump of flesh A fabricated skin An empty will And nothing more Living in Fifteen years of shame Haven’t eaten, haven’t beaten But bathe in dirt. And what are we, without them? Just dark vessels And distraught veins. My vessels My veins My vessels My fiend.
0
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
The Wandering Spine of Humilius
My vessels My veins My vessels My fiend My pen I never strayed My lungs I do disdained My legs not rightly placed My hands, beyond tangled This is just some words about The ethereal wandering spine: Made of hard candled wood To be laid cold on the lane The ghost of it, I dare say, wandered around Spoken of shame and of the nomads And in silence, it sew the raging sea Into yarns of distraught constellation All in this ill world, not above The spine was of rage and of distress Wished forever to stop standing still And forever more, laid to rest As broken bones, as thousand glasses To be unnoticed and blend as well Fifteen years of shame Haven’t eaten Fifteen years of shame Haven’t beaten But bathe in dirt To blend means to fade away And to fade means to accept Annihilation and memories that may Dangle from the tip of your bones Why would you Or the spine Take it for granted, wish it to be true? Truth be told; a spine helps you to stand still Aside from your legs and your partial heart Imagine; if it wander aimlessly Where would you belong, and where would you stand? But still the spine wanders around To reign upright on its own Then decorate beauty of its own Oh, and perhaps, again Blend in as well as to fade away Away Away Away From you From: Fifteen years of shame Haven’t eaten Fifteen years of shame Haven’t beaten But bathe in dirt— And could not stay Look at your spine Which you can’t see, why are you so sure That it is there? Look at the spines On your surrounding: Lampposts Broomsticks Electric poles Candles Pillars Look at the spines That stand on their own Just a single stick And nothing more. Believed to be incapable Wished to be broken shards Ended up standing still For eternity, for darkness beyond And what are you Without them? Just a lump of flesh A fabricated skin An empty will And nothing more Living in Fifteen years of shame Haven’t eaten, haven’t beaten But bathe in dirt. And what are we, without them? Just dark vessels And distraught veins. My vessels My veins My vessels My fiend.
#sadness#sorrow#nostalgia#journey#body#vessels#veins#effort#humiliation#spine
noand-hegask
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noand-hegask
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
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