"clamors" poems - Hello Poetry

First came the false presumptions of luxury The gaudy glamour Bright dresses and dark suits Awkward glances and ****** food Eventually though The evening settled down And then, after the smoking and drinking Came 1 o'clock, the worn-out end of a hazy day Suddenly, It was a smother of time, a stifling landscape of clocks a decaying of darkness The night gave way to trembling cold delirium And slow and slow down A slide from reality Everything fell I remember barely a glimmer- a hand, an arm, red sheets somewhere Eyes that whispered "what's wrong with her? what's her deal?" Or worse yet, faces that didn't care To see me, my wrists Appalling in all their shivering shaken chill dust In moments like this, I am nothing but a fearful machine Broken in its deepest workings, All function altered. Clamors and tremors of panic Withered illusions gathered at my feet like kittens I tossed the blanket from the makeshift bed Lay upon my back and waited Watched, frightened, the night revealing The hundred ignoble, vile images Of which my thoughts seems consisted of They flickered at bit- against the burgundy hammock And empty Baccardi bottles 2 o'clock shook the memory A crowd of twisted things, Torn and stained and coiling about my wrists I move by the sway of these thoughts that are curled around me -The notion of some infinitely suffering thing Oh I only need a lighthouse To guide my soon-to-be shipwreck home I only need a compass, a crucifix, a presence But never never to be found the way

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Jun 2, 2013

Jun 2, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC

laetitia

Prom

First came the false presumptions of luxury The gaudy glamour Bright dresses and dark suits Awkward glances and ****** food Eventually though The evening settled down And then, after the smoking and drinking Came 1 o'clock, the worn-out end of a hazy day Suddenly, It was a smother of time, a stifling landscape of clocks a decaying of darkness The night gave way to trembling cold delirium And slow and slow down A slide from reality Everything fell I remember barely a glimmer- a hand, an arm, red sheets somewhere Eyes that whispered "what's wrong with her? what's her deal?" Or worse yet, faces that didn't care To see me, my wrists Appalling in all their shivering shaken chill dust In moments like this, I am nothing but a fearful machine Broken in its deepest workings, All function altered. Clamors and tremors of panic Withered illusions gathered at my feet like kittens I tossed the blanket from the makeshift bed Lay upon my back and waited Watched, frightened, the night revealing The hundred ignoble, vile images Of which my thoughts seems consisted of They flickered at bit- against the burgundy hammock And empty Baccardi bottles 2 o'clock shook the memory A crowd of twisted things, Torn and stained and coiling about my wrists I move by the sway of these thoughts that are curled around me -The notion of some infinitely suffering thing Oh I only need a lighthouse To guide my soon-to-be shipwreck home I only need a compass, a crucifix, a presence But never never to be found the way