Atlantic City
The Only Shrine I’ve Ever Known
The whole world is soft shades of grey
punctuated by your eyes:
clouded pieces of sea glass worn smooth
through the tireless waves of nights lost to loneliness;
You lead me, hand in hand, to the oceanside,
"There is magic here!"
you exclaimed excitedly,
"Here, words have power."
"Words have always had power"
I reply, waters retreating before a fixed stare,
"Words were meant to be whispered to waves,
overheard and carried by the wind rustling the dune’s crest;
Words were meant to be borne then buried in unmarked sands
where they can be felt, but not seen.
Words have too much power, they should never be seen."
"I’ve seen yours..." you said, uncertain.
"Broken castles waiting to be recycled
those are the only words I’ve ever known."
Panopticon
The sun is a cancer,
airborne and contagious,
oil spilling across a gaping horizon
aflame.
I laid myself down, a canvas on felt,
backlit and translucent, and you discovered
obelisks anchoring my chest to the next life;
observed a prison of neglected monoliths
collapsing in on themselves.
collapsing in on some center.
Holding me fixed, and holding me under.
You asked for three words.
Honestly, I told you:
"I grew up in the city,
there are no words."
Blow up the sun, let the fires rest;
destruction makes the world burn
brighter than any star.
I, Mountain
Freedom never felt so sweet:
pulling the darkness from out my throat.
Laying with the sand, feeling the waters strip me bare:
a shade of blood
for every emotion I’ve ever experienced.
Sunsets paint the sands black,
I’ve never felt more alone;
Salted wounds and cold sores,
I’ve never felt more at home.
Long shadows mark still longer days,
silences punctuated by a gentle swing and sway
of chimes, of wind, of fleeting shade;
Freedom never felt so sweet,
but, damn, did it taste bitter.
The Only Pyre I’ve Ever Known
The fires outside, they’re burning,
burning for themselves a home.
the fire is inside of you
burning your eyelids dry,
burning for itself a home.
And I,
I have an hourglass mind,
the sand has collapsed to ash;
I have an hourglass of ash,
but no longer a home to burn.
Silence is the cure for cancer;
Silence is the modern miracle.
Do you know why it is so difficult to focus on the horizon?
It's because the horizon is on fire, fire as far as the eye can see.
find @rumplestiltskin's Killer Poetry, linked.
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This symbolism junkie is satisfied. I appreciate a puzzle, a challenge and prefer reading between the lines. At first pass, I perceived the 3rd part as the final tying together of the previous two, and then had to step back in my expectation as the 4th came scrolling through my screen, like the love child you never knew you needed until they arrived.
I think, and this is going a good bit back so I can't guarantee, but I think I originally wrote this to be three sections, and it just wasn't lining up right with the narrative I wanted to convey. I can't remember if the third or fourth existed first in the original drafts, but I'm happy with the impact of the fourth and don't see it directly competing with the messaging in the third.
but yes, haha, I'm so happy you enjoyed your read, @eyedreemit, thank you so much!
I like the way you use concrete imagery to present the surreal. It has a great effect. Like here:
It gives the reader a clear image from which to pull the metaphor yet allows plenty of room for interpretation. Those lines in particular stood out to me. So did these:
Perhaps it's kind of ironic that I perceive your writing style to be an unmasking of sorts in this arena.
Finally,
These lines struck me like the others. In a world that constantly tells us to express our emotions, I find myself content to buck that ideology. While this has an affect on outward relationships, I find it much easier to resolve emotions internally. Nice write @carmalain.
Thanks for being a Block Chain Poet.
In pieces like these, which are rooted in broken narratives for me, I try my best to give just enough information to show the reader what they need to know, like using pictures to storyboard a movie but never going beyond that. I'm a long winded writer, and early drafts always lose impact because of that, but I'm happy with the results when all those edits can bring me to a piece like this.
And yes, those last lines mean much and more; I definitely identify with you as an internal processor and rarely one to not take the personal time I need to be so.
Thank you for leading us Block Chain Poets, Moe, your support is exemplary, as is your writings.
While I totally get that it's not everybody's cup of tea, in this case I kind of agree with @eyedreemit: "I appreciate a puzzle". The imagery is often so powerful that, if it seems disjointed, it sets my mind spinning, trying to suss out the connections.
I like the conversation on the beach in the first poem, it sounds to me like one has felt both the power and the danger in words, while the other wants them to have more power, sees the potential in them but has yet to find the fulfillment of that potential... the only clarification I would like is re: the last two lines. Who is speaking them? It seems to me that the meaning of the entire piece hinges on the answer to this question.
The second poem was my favorite, the surreal imagery bleeding time together, past present and future all facets of the same beautiful but apocalyptic experience, culminating in my favorite (out of many favorite) lines: "destruction makes the world burn/brighter than any star."
There's a revelatory mysticism here, anchored firmly in the physical, sensory and sensual experience of the world, which gives these poems a delicious and frightening power. Almost as if one had somehow come across an ancient book of magic, and were brazenly reading the long forgotten spells aloud...
This is the highest praise I could possibly receive, @bennettitalia, thank you so much!
A lot of my fear in my writing exists in the realm of have I strayed to far as the writer to where the reader won't want to read my writings because of the burdens I place on them by using so much symbolism and sectional imagery to tell an often broken narrative.
Those last two lines, if they fit one established character more than the other, than they belong to them, my friend. I try to Occam's Razor as much as possible to minimize how many words I need to use - my goal is just enough to tell the story. Sometimes it works, others, I give up from drafting too many times and not finding the path, haha - I'll usually come back a few years later and figure something out.
Hey mate, thank you so much! for the read, the comment, these words!! it means so much to me that my writing found a place to connect with you, really. So appreciated, my friend.
This was great. It was much easier to understand; maybe I am getting used to this. I love the layout and the consistent imagery though.
The waters and the sand, the sun and the fire, and then the sands turn to ashes. There is a lot of meaning behind each image which I get, even though I may find it difficult to connect them all together. Your poetry is inspirational and remarkable :D
Well said, and you echoed a lot of my comments, but so much more succinctly. In counterpoint I found the layout distracting; that is just personal preference though.
I agree with the strong images and infused meanings.
These are lovely and powerful poems. I've been to Atlantic City before and it was as if I was being pulled back in. Well done!!
there is a lot of power in words, in places. sometimes I think there are bridges to everywhere we've ever been and our connections with people who carry similar bridges come easier because of this passive, unseen force.
so happy you could find connection in these words, @snowpea, hope the memories are beautiful and pleasant ones.
Being near the ocean, the boardwalk, Atlantic City itself? Yes, very fond memories. Traveling through the state of New Jersey ? Not so much. 😅
WOW! Just WOW! your poem has left me speechless!!
Love your formatting too!! :D
I definitely spend a good bit of time on trying to get everything to sit right, so I very much appreciate it shows, @snook, thank you.
That poem really got to me my friend, absolutely amazing 😊 still stunned.. Lol
Well done!
as always, honored and humbled by your words, Saffi, thank you.
Aww... Just honest words from the heart 😊
It really was a personal beautiful poem and well written! Have a wonderful day. Cheers!
Every lines are full of meanings :)
that's always my hope and my goal, Pamela, thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment.
Beautifull poems, I especially like the last one.
This is so powerful, something that made me think. Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful work with us 💚