History plays a Broken Record

Image

*Image found HERE

History plays a Broken Record

My horn sends many an eight ball
down the rabbit hole
and the strand of blood
he is coated in
is saluted proudly
in many a corner,
each wall we hand in hand
rammed
and it crumbled in defeat,
in scars and cracks
entombed the victories
and castles
that we turned to pebbles;
yet that windmill
where you slept
still stands tall,
it’s sails
so stubborn,
always chanting
love epics
and I would trade that song,
the one that says it all
so I can float mute,
just to be deaf.

Because of you I wished for
Gretel to be eaten.

My words drizzle
somewhere between
drop 82 and 91
in every choir of tears
that cascades on this town
and people say
that I could grow
a red rose
from each
copper coin in their pockets
and boats were built
to sail
only the puddles
left behind where I walked.
When nightfalls come
all the halos get pretty,
everything tastes
more sweet, more posesable,
yet I would trade it all
for a handful of
Archimedes’s bath water
so I could finally learn to say
“It passed!”,
so I too
could walk away
clean.

Because of you I carry a shovel
attached to my tongue;
I never know
what more
will I have to bury.

The church bell tells the morning
tales of my nightmares,
clouds cluster
and whisper in the ears of pedestrians
passages from romance novels,
an evening sometimes comes,
completely drunk,
well worn and happy
and it shares it’s secrets
only to those who know
the secret handshake
of well chewed despair,
the tourists might complain
that the clocks stopped
when I passed them
and bowed before my strength
and the restaurant closed
and midnight could be found
only at my address.
I would swap it in a heartbeat
just to be Agamemnon,
I would have feet of clay
and a dagger
sticking from my throat
to perfectly explain
why I never
speak of the Summer.

Because of you I know
what my bread is made of;
touches lost in threads of shirts
that no longer fit me,
but which I search to measure
how well
am I
today.

I have read of futures and of past,
in cards and tea leaves
and I have believed the present
so much that I
used Ogham sticks as chopsticks
even when it all clattered to warn me
that the pain that comes after
a last kiss,
that even that will be magical
when the dream dusts dissipate.
What I would want the most
is to spit in face of Agrippa
and tell him how
memories
can be cryogenically saved
and mixed with strawberry jam
and eaten
like popsicles later,
in a room for two.

Because of you the people call my name
and it feels like a wake.
If only I was burned or skinned
or dressed
for something
that remembers
how did the Sun

used to call me.

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~ by Oloriel on October 2, 2013.

37 Responses to “History plays a Broken Record”

  1. I don’t believe in present… But that tea leaves… It’s so promising… πŸ™‚

  2. “I carry a shovel
    attached to my tongue”
    ~
    one of many
    vivid
    memorable
    memories
    ~
    wow

  3. !!! Wow, this delectable. I must come back and have a second and third helping. Delicious word choices and phrasing. Love this. Too many great lines to pick just a couple.

  4. Beautiful arrangement. You are so talented:)

  5. I am so amazed how you are able to write like this. What a beautiful cascade of wonderful words and ideas. Had to re-follow for your posts to show up in my reader again. πŸ™‚

    • Grrr, you are lthe third person that had to do this to see my posts again, I have no idea what is going on. Sorry for the inconviniece and I am happy you enjoyed my poem πŸ™‚

  6. Oh wow! This is so rich with emotion, symbolism, genius lines. Love love!

    I loved especially (it got to me the most heart-wise)
    “Because of you I wished for
    Gretel to be eaten.”

  7. beautiful Oloriel – simply thank you

  8. Reading your poetry makes me wish I could pour myself another Cognac (or two…) and write into the wee hours of the morning. Instead, I must go to sleep and then to work too soon. But I thank you for the inspiration. I took a break for a couple of weeks, but knew I was missing something good, and here it is! lahko noč

    • It makes me feel like that also, and yearn for an hour more to write πŸ™‚ I hope you rested your creative muse and hope you had a pleasent night sleep also πŸ™‚

  9. Such a profound piece! You have one of the most unique poetic voice is I have ever come across!

  10. So beautiful Selena! I love the imagery. Your language is pure magic with elements of mystery. Truly a pleasure to read!

    • Thank you Shaini, I am glad you enjoy and I am glad the magic that I put into every piece can make people overlook the shades that I am writing of πŸ™‚

  11. Crikey, where do you get these images?!!! Incredible!
    “My words drizzle
    somewhere between
    drop 82 and 91
    in every choir of tears”

  12. Every single line of this poem was a feast for the senses. It felt wistful to me. I love the way you think, Oloriel. You are unique. I really loved this one. Thank you πŸ™‚

    “that windmill where you slept”

    “people say
    that I could grow
    a red rose
    from each
    copper coin in their pockets”

    “yet I would trade it all
    for a handful of
    Archimedes’s bath water”

    “Because of you I carry a shovel
    attached to my tongue;
    I never know
    what more
    will I have to bury.”

  13. As some other readers have already stated, you do have a very unique voice and your word choices are marvelous and cleaver. Love your work. Hope you’ve had a nice weekend, my friend.

  14. magnificent poem, so much to ponder, my friend. thank you for sharing πŸ™‚

  15. Oloriel, I would like to feature (a full feature) on We Drink Because We’re Poets.

    Why?

    Glad you asked.

    Your poetry reminds me of viewing Salvador Dali’s paintings with H.R. Giger’s eyes whilst listening to the music of Red with the ears of Mindless Self Indulgence, or better yet, SOAD.

    Your work is brilliant. Let me know if featuring is okay.

  16. […] -Oloriel, excerpt from History Plays a Broken Record […]

  17. Everything you write is amazing…and the fact that English is not your native language just blows me away.

    • Thank you! You could say it is my native language – I have been speaking it and thinking in it since I am 5 years old. I heard it in cartoons and I just instantly fell in love and just wanted to learn it right away πŸ™‚

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