Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
mitakiharashiPoems
the bottle twists glass falls in drifts and air parts like flesh there’s a terror beneath this city trucks enter from out of town and shake the power lines passing without pause sometimes birds gather for days chirps grow exponentially before tailing into silence; heather and brimstone little bodies roll to the edges and burst on the streets in red regalia a somnolence keeps the city forgetful time flows in fits a streetlamp; a raven; ten gravestones it all runs without moving vessels dilate hands hold themselves there’s nothing to breathe with an empty chalice, turned on the hour grants heaving clenching writhing an ocean of rust bulb shatters, blood spills out her mouth cave head turn faith the world remakes itself ********** the colour of sunflowers bicycle chains thirst colonialism wet paint emptiness over emptiness act without agent lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack peel the flesh and find flesh always more flesh don’t stop they know better chirp chirp chirp turn exit substance purpose nothing
0
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
a turn without end
the bottle twists glass falls in drifts and air parts like flesh there’s a terror beneath this city trucks enter from out of town and shake the power lines passing without pause sometimes birds gather for days chirps grow exponentially before tailing into silence; heather and brimstone little bodies roll to the edges and burst on the streets in red regalia a somnolence keeps the city forgetful time flows in fits a streetlamp; a raven; ten gravestones it all runs without moving vessels dilate hands hold themselves there’s nothing to breathe with an empty chalice, turned on the hour grants heaving clenching writhing an ocean of rust bulb shatters, blood spills out her mouth cave head turn faith the world remakes itself ********** the colour of sunflowers bicycle chains thirst colonialism wet paint emptiness over emptiness act without agent lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack peel the flesh and find flesh always more flesh don’t stop they know better chirp chirp chirp turn exit substance purpose nothing
4:45pm, May 1st 2016 the broken frame; the endless egress
#self#modernism#butler#deconstruction#regress#poststructuralism#intersubjectivity#performativity
mitakiharashi
Written by
mitakiharashi
New Zealander
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem