Rampage

Image

*This gorgeous image belongs to the artist found HERE

Rampage

This is the last bastion of defiance
that fuels this fire, lover;
take my hands, I need chains of flesh.
I want your lips to kill this vessel,
I want you to smash the porcelain,
I want you to do it while the whole world is watching;
I want your immortality!
Why mingle in the streams of adamant beauty,
why wait in rocking chairs for expiration dates,
why believe the fading whisper of carnality,
when the skin disintegrates for nothing?
Cut it open, lover,
suck the meridians, help me hurt.
Drink up, these 2 liters of humanity,
plant the daisies to my collarbones;
wake the night between these arteries,
shock the emptiness alive to face moralities,
let it laugh! Let it drip, and leave me ripped,
let the water flood the tombs,
leave my skeletons to drown.
Between the gates is where we waited
for thousands of years
just not to touch.

*My husband wanted me to refresh my French so I can teach him the language and this poem was the result. What can I say, he was blasting off ETHS at the same time πŸ˜› And to my best friend who will no doubt read this one day, yes, the title is exactly what you think it is!

Advertisements

~ by Oloriel on May 31, 2014.

28 Responses to “Rampage”

  1. A rampage indeed, of unsolicited emotions, levying actions… Brisk imagery with your usual distinctive metaphors. Enjoyable read. πŸ™‚

  2. Very intense, especially with the red lettering.

  3. I love it! But am I missing something? if you wrote it in french, where’s the French, I only see English…

    • You are not missing anything. I am not confident enough that the French is correct, hence why I do not share it. I also get the feeling I bore everyone when I post version which are not English.

      • Hmm… well I guess I am an odd bird then, I would have liked to read both versions. French is a beautiful language, and I have inserted portions of french poems shared by a french friend, into some site that reads aloud in french whatever text you enter, after translating it. It’s pretty cool, whatever site I had used pronounced it beautifully, very unlike the robotic Microsoft Sam text-to-speech program!

  4. Amazing images, Oloriel – very striking and disturbing! xxx

  5. I loved the way you described it… Infact the best I’ve read lately…. But i failed to understand your point…

    • They say one should not succumb to explaining their own poetry, because that means it was not good enough to be understood, but I don’t always see it that way, so what this poem is about is cattering to lust. We stay faithfull to our ideals and wisdoms,until we burst and simply beg to be rude, ailling, to be ravaged.
      Hope this makes it a bit clearer.

  6. Love the wildness and rudeness of your demands πŸ™‚

  7. Powerfully written Oloriel. Excelllent. >KB

  8. The intensity! πŸ™‚

  9. Something about navigating your world, never entirely sure if enough sail has been set before reading aloud… I tripped up a few times πŸ™‚

  10. well, one day…I still think of other type of rampage πŸ˜€

    • Oh, wait, you didnt guess what the Rampage is? Yes, it can be a prelude to an intercourse, lusting from a far OR…. it can just be the 60 seconds of waiting for WSG to start…. A tribute to our now dead realm group… Saccage!!!!

  11. Somewhere before middle, but not to close to beginning

  12. Excellent progression here in the way you present the poetic images.
    The pace quickens and the last stanza seems to allay the rhythm.
    The title is eloquent and matches the poem very well.
    Sending love and best wishes. Aquileana πŸ˜‰

Tell me something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
Clacks Header

A massively unofficial fan site for Sir Terry Pratchett

Poet's Parlor

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Nemirne misli se poigravaju s umom...

PiΕ‘em ono Ε‘to mi se mota po umu u trenutku kada naidje dama inspiracija

Ward Clever

Demons, Unicorns, and Cupid's Assassins

Pieced By HB

A Blog By Hudson Biko

A Lion Sleeps in the Heart of the Brave

Living, Fighting, Thriving. Till I Collapse.

Christina Strigas

You can't break up with a soul mate

eclecticismgunfight

Poetry by Shawn M. Young

A Word Of Substance

"Object Relations"

Insights from "Inside"

Sunshine on Razor Wire: perspectives from "inside"

My Peacock Books

Books, Art, Poetry & Peacocks!

Whisper and the Roar

A Feminist Literary Collective (& outlaw poets swearing)

samantha lucero

she writes stuff sometimes.

Bradley K Palmer Art

#painting #art #design #color #drawing #abstract #landscape #cityscape

%d bloggers like this: