"incising" poems
I
Half of the fellow father as he doubles
His sea-sucked Adam in the hollow hulk,
Half of the fellow mother as she dabbles
To-morrow's diver in her ***** milk,
Bisected shadows on the thunder's bone
Bolt for the salt unborn.
The fellow half was frozen as it bubbled
Corrosive spring out of the iceberg's crop,
The fellow seed and shadow as it babbled
The swing of milk was tufted in the pap,
For half of love was planted in the lost,
And the unplanted ghost.
The broken halves are fellowed in a *******
The crutch that marrow taps upon their sleep,
Limp in the street of sea, among the rabble
Of tide-tongued heads and bladders in the deep,
And stake the sleepers in the savage grave
That the vampire laugh.
The patchwork halves were cloven as they scudded
The wild pigs' wood, and slime upon the trees,
******* the dark, kissed on the cyanide,
And loosed the braiding adders from their hairs,
Rotating halves are horning as they drill
The arterial angel.
What colour is glory? death's feather? tremble
The halves that pierce the pin's point in the air,
And ***** the thumb-stained heaven through the thimble.
The ghost is dumb that stammered in the straw,
The ghost that hatched his havoc as he flew
Blinds their cloud-tracking eye.
II
My world is pyramid. The padded mummer
Weeps on the desert ochre and the salt
Incising summer.
My Egypt's armour buckling in its sheet,
I scrape through resin to a starry bone
And a blood parhelion.
My world is cypress, and an English valley.
I piece my flesh that rattled on the yards
Red in an Austrian volley.
I hear, through dead men's drums, the riddled lads,
******** their bowels from a hill of bones,
Cry Eloi to the guns.
My grave is watered by the crossing Jordan.
The Arctic scut, and basin of the South,
Drip on my dead house garden.
Who seek me landward, marking in my mouth
The straws of Asia, lose me as I turn
Through the Atlantic corn.
The fellow halves that, cloven as they swivel
On casting tides, are tangled in the shells,
Bearding the unborn devil,
Bleed from my burning fork and smell my heels.
The tongue's of heaven gossip as I glide
Binding my angel's hood.
Who blows death's feather? What glory is colour?
I blow the stammel feather in the vein.
The **** is glory in a working pallor.
My clay unsuckled and my salt unborn,
The secret child, I sift about the sea
Dry in the half-tracked thigh.
3.9k
I will drag my knife along your skin,
sharp blade down into your fragile, shaking canvas,
incising an increasing beat of whimpers and whines.
Please hold still. I promise this will hurt.
I will expose your clattering bones,
rip out your chattering teeth,
erase every impugned utterance
you muttered against me.
I will carve my letters slowly
on your unzipped frame,
sliding the burgundy blood across to
blot
clot
dot.
This is only preparation for what is about to follow.
I will puncture your throbbing organs,
slash your stretched cartilage
with an unwritten script.
Before I press further,
I’ll assure you, you are still alive.
I will twist each phrase,
haunt you to believe it is your fault,
force you to beg the slightest escape.
I will permanently etch my name
deep in the frozen chambers
of your quivering heart.
I will open up the blueprint as a demolition expert,
remove whole fractions of your fractured soul,
leave you a horrid wreck in the abyss
of a mess you just made.
You will not get rid of me,
though no trace of evidence is left behind.
My hands have been clean from the start.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
I provoke the wind
in a dialect shared with him
and him alone.
He whispers assent,
as assuaging liquid draughts
glance my submissive frame.
A desolate wanderer,
incising the burdensome night.
Accompanied by none corporeal,
I prowl satin fields,
illuminated by Luna
and Saturn, her amber consort.
©Thomas Gabriel
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 10:59 AM UTC
Every night before I rest my head
I strip myself down until I am bare;
What's mine is His
So with Him I share.
I lie myself down across the bed and prepare to implement my prayers so that we may be intimate.
He enters me, penetrating my entirety
He relies on me
I ride on His serenity
Until He releases all of the devil's ties incising me
He restrains my frame and forces me to refrain from dancing in the flame
Cast by my demons.
Like draining,
He empties me
Of all residual sin remaining within
He comes
Into the heart of my soul
And we console each other.
Whispers,
Heavy breathing,
Until Amen
We continue on conceiving
Until I am whole again.
He smothers my heaving chest
With His Love
His Love
He covers me, in the midst of
His love,
He puts me to rest.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 1:26 AM UTC
Knight of the night
Fearfully incising the hearts
Of those you pass
With pasts
Of unreliable mothers
Fathers
And caregivers
Knight of the night
I try to look
At your presence
As a gift
But in the midst
Of your silken touch
And unsuspecting kisses
Pressing heavier
You've made your impact
Knight of the night
I wonder of your return
Do you feel shame
In your silence
Of naming this sweetness
A forbidden fruit
It will not swallow you,
I promise
I will not let it
For if there is a day
You feel you cannot leave
I will lead you to the garden
And leave you there
So you can grow
Someday I will return
To enjoy the fruits
Of which we loved and labored
Abundant
These,
Gifts of two worlds
Please, realize
You need not be chained
Gifts
Of our worlds
Are to be celebrated
Unshackled
From self-imposed narratives
Free
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 4:27 PM UTC
I will drag my knife along your skin,
sharp blade down into your fragile, shaking canvas,
incising an increasing beat of whimpers and whines.
Please hold still. I promise this will hurt.
I will expose your clattering bones,
rip out your chattering teeth,
erase every impugned utterance
you muttered against me.
I will carve my letters slowly
on your unzipped frame,
sliding the burgundy blood across to
blot
clot
dot.
This is only preparation for what is about to follow.
I will puncture your throbbing organs,
slash your stretched cartilage
with an unwritten script.
Before I press further,
I’ll assure you, you are still alive.
I will twist each phrase,
haunt you to believe it is your fault,
force you to beg the slightest escape.
I will permanently etch my name
deep in the frozen chambers
of your quivering heart.
I will open up the blueprint as a demolition expert,
remove whole fractions of your fractured soul,
leave you a horrid wreck in the abyss
of a mess you just made.
You will not get rid of me,
though no trace of evidence is left behind.
My hands have been clean from the start.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 11:07 AM UTC
No one came that day, nor
Any other day, to his birthday party,
Nor to say “Hello”, “Good-bye”, or “How are you?”
Nor for any other event, now that he
Thought about it,
No one came.
The day he had 104, sweating like a pig and
(Do pigs really sweat?) was delirious and weak,
No one came.
The day he broke his leg.
The sharp, jagged bone, incising
The skin, blood everywhere, held tightly
By two belts and
No one came.
The day he received his diploma,
Summa *** Laude! How much better?
Work and school, no time to play, now
To rest a bit and celebrate, but without
Anyone to share the joyous moment,
No one came.
The day his heart felt feint,
Must be how a volcano feels when
It is about to erupt, he had thought
Just before a crushing hand squeezed
Brought quick, excruciating pain, and then
He was dead; laid cold and still and
No one came.
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 6:50 PM UTC
..and it hurts
when the blades flash
and blood spurts.
See the face
watch the glass
then smash the mirror
watch as cracking up you'll pass
into the seething red hot boiling mass of indecisions.
Incising with precision and then it's too late
any hate you ever had against yourself
your mum or dad is dripping then it's gone.
Who said life goes on?
it does maybe
you cannot,did not,would not see
the sympathy that wrote itself upon the stone
when laid at rest
three miles from home
in St. Marys churchyard and you thought life was so hard
it's harder now
but not for you.you flew away
leaving family to pray and cry.
...and the awfulness of wondering why or what they said
that brought you to this
dead end
full stop
final resting place.
But you know different,don't you dear?
there's no resting place for you in here.
Like there,
you're just a square peg in a rounded hole
another lost and weary soul.
..and you're not going anyway to anywhere
no floating through the air like you read in some ghostly story book
no angels come to tuck you in
you're on your own again
but this times it's for keeps.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 4:11 AM UTC
Before you take up your blade, Sharon
who do you see?
Will you be cutting to heal
or incising to free
some carefully hidden,
some up-til-now unbidden me?
When you take up your blade
and test the fresh edge
do you have an image of a me
fixed in your head?
Can you see in your mind
a kinda-me roughly out sketched?
When you make your first cut
do you have a clear vision
of what I'll reveal
have you made your decision
as you press down and carefully cleave
with loving conceiving precision?
When you lay your blade down
do you see I've appeared?
Do you know I'm complete
when the excess is cleared?
Or when you sleep do you wonder
whether there's a less of a me
maybe a more of a me
silently waiting here?
Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019 at 3:53 PM UTC
These nightmares carry out raids to plunder
On hope, devils’ reft pardon no still sleep
Monkeyshines torment, hiding covers under
From this sly world, such vanities deep
Underlying psyche’s destitute creep
Poverty-stricken, a strike against strife
Societies pick at loser’s lasting faith
Incising to bone comes butcher’s knife
Mental breakdowns kneel to a wraith
All is true the great God saith!
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC
pale spark, cheeks faintly, rouged
thy kiss is the distillation of summer
in the thinplump ****** of your lips
hides uglywonderful snarling fangs
pretty like ivory or alabaster incising
sets totally me at teetering 'pon their
cute painful hushed sharpness
gets each hair of my nape on end
frivolously alight at their queer press
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 8:33 PM UTC
My heart jumps when I cross your path
Do you know that I love you the way I hate math?
Its funny how you don’t get my jokes
Its probably cuz I always choke
You walk away when I just want you to stay
Seeing you makes my whole entire day
Your body is like fine wine.
You got more incising with age
But then you went and flipped the page
Rumors that you’re with her and not me
Crushed and destroyed my sanity
Spinning in a spiral of hate
So hurt I remember the date
When the grave was my fate
OD on some really heavy drugs
All because I never got that one hug
I loved you but you never felt the same
No wonder they say love is a dangerous game
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 10:09 AM UTC