Free verse № 139416
Sunday i will dream again
Sundays toll peeled eyes and doves,
I harked for the Nazarene
as my shoulder war was lost
and I collided with my Demons.
Ignorance is Man's Babylon.
He chalks around the dead
empowering his weakness
kissing his fragrant corpse.
Find love in my frown lines.
With pursed tender scarlet
and leave upon me your map
so I can lose myself, finding you.
Inferno clock strikes its hands on me
and I am gold by days end,
changing with sky
blending into night,
on catacombs of satin
where you lay no more.
It's Sundays I feel her most,
the coffee ring by a crossword
and the way a pen looked in her mouth
as she concentrated.
It's Sundays I dread the most,
her puncturing kiss to my cheek
her cold feet searching for flesh
now replaced by nothing
who sleeps for yesterdays.
I am walking to our place,
to lay in combs of corn,
to stare in your thousand eyes
and hope to see one fall
so I can close mine
and see you againâ¦
in dreams.
10 comments
PS since I disappeared from the ranker you started writing some unbelievable stuff; I feel like I missed out!
Shoulder war: Chip on his shoulder maybe.
2nd stanza: He relizes he is bound to die.
3rd stanza: He embraces the idea of dying.
4th stanza: Getting older and closer to death.
5th and 6th stanzas: He reminisces about her and mourns her.
last stanza: he's preparing and about to die.
That's just my guess though.
Alchemy is pretty much on the button with his/her interpretation. I wrote it attempting a duality of death being death, or the end of any relationship for whatever reason.
I realized where my strengths and weaknesses lay and awareness helped me do my thing the best to my ability.
It could actually do without the last stanza, i never know when to bow out but the ending of a poem in my opinion is key for people giving a shit.
Antony
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