Sunday, October 15, 2006

The consequence of 4 am:

To taste solitude in my mouth
And recognize it
As the taste of your skin
When it brushes
Against my lips
To try to try to try my dearest
My dearest to try to hold on to you
The way I hold a fistful of air
The way I hold a delicate flower
The way I repress the yearning
To caress it with my fingertips
For fear of breaking its petals
The way I implore it not fade
As it begins to die away
The way you feed Hunger
And it becomes insatiable
The way you move
As I give chase
After the bruising shadow
of your heady scent.

How did this happen?
When was the exact moment
That you wanted me
To fall
That you wanted me
To tear myself apart
Piece by piece
Limb from limb
And I eagerly obeyed
The call
Of your sweetest song?

Listen to me
Just listen, my dearest
Even if you don’t understand
The words I speak
I speak
With my heart
(Where a tiny hole
Has been pricked
So I can breathe a little
From the sharp wave
Of trembling reality
So if you press your ear
Against the barren wall
You can hear the cries
Of where the hollow spaces
Between the blood and fissures
Ache to be filled
With strands of you):

You, are a little, little snowflake
And I, the passionate breath
That held you captive
In a glass case
For a hundred thousand years
As your spirit roamed
In cities sound asleep
Before blowing specks
Of your ashes
Across the misty sea
Which twirled you and teased you
With a twinkling laugh.


Strider said...

No words of compliments can ever do justice to this poem, and neither do the title.

Faith said...

Are you serious??? Haha. I love you more than I love Barney. :P

Phoenix said...

AWEASOME. brilliant. and all such words...
none of them suffice's sooo lovely!

Miao said...

I like the last stanza. This poem would be better without the second stanza. "To tear myself apart/ Piece by piece/ Limb from limb/ And I eagerly obeyed/ The call/ Of your sweetest song?" is clichéd, and removing it does not really disrupt the flow...

Personal opinion. ^^

Faith said...

Miao, you're very perceptive. I struggled with this stanza too, but decided to leave it intact despite its annoyingly glaring flaws for a number of reasons- I like the play of the length of the oblique rhyme, the connection of largely general ideas which would have collected in the minds of anyone who ever loved and therefore form a similarity of causes, and I thought it was rather representative of the hypnotic tune of the "song" in particular, which has a somewhat nursery rhythm towards the end. Clichéd? Haha. Well, many other symbols and imagery employed are admittedly hackneyed to say the least, but on the whole I must say I favoured their simplicity as opposed to something sophisticated but consequently isolated, and beyond easy recognition for readers. In other words, there was more good than bad going on in there. In my opinion, no one with that much intensity of affection can even attempt to run away from the possibility of such a label as the word "clichéd", and so I gladly content with it. I guess it all boils down to style and taste of poetry where differentiation is naturally bound to occur.