I Resemble the Willow

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I Resemble the Willow

I’ve got a cricket
lost in my bloodstream;
he makes fragility crack
as he leads the rock
to the stained glass window;
my finger pricks on the spindle
I drip down
very bad jazz.

Slice through the illusion
of my beauty
with a fork and a knife.

The elegance of
waltzing down the highway
with a ghost
is in the inert thorn
inserted ever so kindly
into the coronary artery,
teaching you how to be dull;
have you tossed my bones
into the mercy of the seaweed?
Poured back the ocean
into the empty socket?
A stroke of the brush
for the unfinished death,
bottle my breath.

The white wall
is a mortuary,
the life line is the
endowment of the blade;
I followed the promise down
to the last leukocyte
and when my wisdom
copulates with escapism,
the beast is naked
and celestial and thirsty
for salt
to clean the wound.

This loneliness
is the stain
on a most loved coat;
I grew a peach
in the garden of sorrow
and now I smell like
pulchritude.
Have you peeled my skin back
to read the poems?
Have you cremated
my confessions
and inhaled the dust?
Wonder does your name
echo through the spiral
of my insides.

Snuff the candle out,
let me lay down in your lap
and shatter;
if you love me
only then can I be
a gush of splendor.
Only then can you say
how the pain of my being
was so alluringly
scrumptious.
Until then
I resemble the Willow;
until then
the scarlet hue
of the dreamer’s eye
is just the playful breeze
that cuts.

~*~*~*~*~

Podsecam na vrbu

Imam cvrchka
izgubljenog u krvotoku;
on chini da fragilnost popuca
dok vodi kamen
ka bojenom staklenom prozoru;
moj prst se ubada na vreteno
kapljem
veoma losh dzez.

Seci kroz iluziju
moje lepote
sa viljushkom i nozem.

Elegancija igranja valcera
niz autoput sa duhom
je u inertnom trnu
ubachenom maksimalno ljubazno
u koronarnu arteriju,
ucechi te da budesh tup;
jesi li razbacao moje kosti
u milost morske trave?
Sipao nazad okean
u praznu duplju?
Potez cetkice za nedovrshenu smrt,
flashiraj mi dah.

Beli zid
je mrtvachnica,
linija zivota
je zaduzbina oshtrice;
pratila sam obecanje dole
do poslednjeg leukocita
i kada se moja mudrost
spari sa mojim bekstvom od stvarnosti,
zver je gola
i nebeska i zedna
soli za ranu.

Ova usamljenost
je mrlja
na omiljenom kaputu;
Uzgojila sam bresku
u bashti tuge
i sada mirishem kao
lepota.
Jesi li oljushtio moju kozu
da procitash pesme?
Jesi li kremirao moje ispovesti
i udahnuo prah?
Pitaj se da li tvoje ime
odjekuje niz spiralu
moje unutrashnjosti.

Ugasi svecu,
dozvoli mi da legnem u tvoje krilo
i da se slomim;
ako me volish
samo tada mogu biti
vrcavi sjaj.
Samo tada mozesh reci
kako je bol mog bica
bio tako primamljivo
divan.
Do tada,
podsecam na Vrbu;
Do tada,
grimizna nijansa
sanjarevog oka
je samo razigrani vetar
koji seche.

~ by Oloriel on July 6, 2013.