Beauty needs a fault


Image found HERE!

Beauty needs a fault

It’s pouring on my left palm
A psalm of decadent elixirs;
I push them back into my eye.
Courteous invitations for nature
To de-virginise itself
Are stretching blurry, drunk stars,
But she lays,
Exhausted and heaving,
And I wonder wherever are all my toothpicks,
‘cause it’s a sin to shut one’s lids
at this moment of exuberant mythology.
Bite your lip, take another sip,
Let that heart beat without a purpose.
As I aspire to butcher and hack
And revive my pasts with suturing the good old lies
To good old limbs,
Someone is weeping over my head
And I wish I had a lapis lazuli in this
Forsaken chest, instead of useless red palettes.
I remember how kissing is easier in the dark,
But the emptiness nibs at the hollow
And it’s a peace I long craved,
A suitable farewell in the rain
In the itch of the blade-bones
And I flick the cigarette but
And just as I’m about to flick myself
I hear two birds romancing it in branches,
Hide and seek with their beaks,
Why, oh why, did they
Have to make love
So close to the street and so loud,
And so wild, cursed feathery scamps,
Chirping like rabid lovers at 2 AM,
Drenched wet, stupid marionettes,
But they aren’t stopping,
They are filling the vast blackness with less then nothing
And I raise my head up to the
Sky in rolling waves
And I smirk and say
“Not today, sir, not today!”

~ by Oloriel on April 19, 2014.

19 Responses to “Beauty needs a fault”

  1. ‘A psalm of decadent elixirs’: love it! xxx

  2. The 2am reference always strikes a fancy to me.. This is stunning, darling.

  3. zasmeta mi kad neku rec neznam pa ispadnem iz konetksta, sad sam se opametio kad citam tvoje pesme drzim gugl translejt u sledecem tabu 😉

    • Zakazuje ta sprava, nenormalno, a i bash sam danas na istom ovom prozoru razmishljala o tome kako neke reci jednostavno nikad nece moci da prevede.

  4. There is that sense of pain and survival in your words… which bring about an image which is understood but still hard to touch upon. The solitude and the barging of the voices leading to a change, even if slight, is desirable according to me.
    Thought provoking piece… and as always, a wonderful write.

    • Thank you very much, HA! I am recently finding it how it is very hard for people to carry my poems with them, because they hurt. I sincerely appriciate you taking the time and courage to open up your heart here, and hopefully, emerge stronger.

  5. Those closing lines are stirring and powerful, both in meaning and imagery.

    “And I raise my head up to the
    Sky in rolling waves
    And I smirk and say
    “Not today, sir, not today!”

    • Thank you very much Bianca! I think most people would not believe if I told them those closing lines were inspired by a World of Warcraft addon 🙂

      • Ha! really? 😉

      • Yes. It is a comic addon and when your character is on very low health, but you manage to heal yourself vs a monster or another player, it just yells and pops huge letters on the screen that say NOT TODAY! Me and my friends who also played the game and used this addon incorporate it into our way of speaking and as a sleng.

      • That’s funny, Oloriel 😀

  6. Thus quoth the bard. “It’s pouring on my left palm/
    A psalm of decadent elixirs”

  7. High on a hill is where these words find me today, and it’s wondrous to hear words drawn from different wells, filling, spilling over in lines as a poetic flow tempers such a carriage, an artful presence sated within an arrested moment. Some fine writing Oloriel…

    • Thank you very much for your comment, it gave me a new light and insight into the poem, those words you said, “arrested moment”, resonate quite right and in a new sphere 🙂

      • 🙂

      • A little behind the interaction, so much went on in an instant after being arrested by the moment in reading your poem, and all the comments, in some ways the poem played out as real moments, or perhaps in part like looking in on a theatrical play/film inside my head as I read aloud… In addition, between the poem, the birds mentioned in the last third, your banjo comment above, living here on a hill (more related to the music going through my head due to the banjo), and the song High on a Hill by Kate Rusby filtering through my head, it’s the best new poem I’ve read in a long while, the way it opened different channels of/in/to thought. Is that too much thinking in too many directions all at once?

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