+ Thaddius –

Stars by Dagwanoenyent

*Image found HERE

+ Thaddius –

Beneath your skin there is a face,
a cosinus arranged of reaped roots
and wildflowers,
roughly translated into strangled stars
and patched onto your iris.
Your hair knows and your mouth knows
and the seasons know
and birds ocassionaly sing about it.
It’s bruised maroon
and the only way for
it not to hurt
is to blink.
You discard the remains and shed
and you get back to bed
and the day shuts his lids too
and rolls away like a wingwitch
forever out of your reach.

I eat atmospheres of shaking words
like they are nothing
but a casualty of a truce
between life and me,
while the tapestry is wary
and the chair is old,
and I am wary and old
and doomed to look young
and release baloons
into the stratosphere,
hearing from the ones
I love
how someone named Uriel
keeps looking for me
when I’m not around,
telling how his good Lord
owes me
some summer days;
and he scratches his number
and address
on a halo
that he leaves behind.

But I too have a face
that even the sky thinks
is a wandering stranger;
my face is an old mendicant
that peers through my sockets
with an old, stolen spyglass,
whenever it rains.
And he dines cheap meals
at the artist’s table in Hell,
and he hums of sorrow
only he and I can understand,
he sings of streets we ought to not remember
and how the city and the Moon
and the birches that shy before November winds
are all actually his,
but he gambled it away in a game versus the sea,
for a girl
that used to do naugh but cry amidst a stage.
And I lay myself into sheets and he
descend down the stairs
and he lays on my soul
and shivers in the cold, cold, cold
graveyard of memories
that he built there,
waiting each night
for both of us
to die a little more.

Entirely like two humans,
with veils of cacophony powdering
our cheeks
and stretching our hair into wild dances,
we are abscent for we are late
to the plastic flower exibitions.
If we find ourselves both
escaping our shoe holes
with out true selves,
at the same square
at the same time,
leaving our carefully taught
lies and martyr’s mercies
lifeless on the pavement;
all I would ask
is for those stars of yours
to twirl a little on the corner
and shake a bit of stardust
into my beggars palms
and we might just both forget
how it feels to be someone
who fits into
this ugly world.

* Thaddius is a boss in the video game World of Warcraft, in Naxxramas. It is a vile creature assembled from the bodies of woman and chidlren captured, tortured and murdered by Kel’thuzad. This means nothing to you, dear reader, and perhaps you do not care, but the abilities of this boss and the tactics used to defeat it have always reminded me of life and the way I handle it. Thaddius will during combat proceed to give each player a polarity: a positive one (+) or a negative one (-). Players with same polarities need to group up and stay away from others of the different polarity or electricity shocks them and they die. That is the significance of the title. In my guild, the players with positive polarity would stand left from Thaddius, while those with a negative one, always on his right.

How does this remind me of life? We often, I at least, yearn my opposites. I open up to them to learn and expirience, but when we meet, we get electrocuted. In World of Warcraft, my guild can wipe because of it. In real life, it often creates an emotional chaos, an urge and perhaps a sick desire to accept and adapt, to forcefully change so you can stand together. We often get electrocuted because of that, and we are scared to proceed, scared to attempt to bond, scared to make the approach at all.

*To potential WoW players who embark upon this searching for the boss tactic: Sorry folks, take some lame poetry instead!

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~ by Oloriel on February 13, 2015.

32 Responses to “+ Thaddius –”

  1. What a stunning piece.. I love the surreal imagery.. the strangled stars and atmospheres of shaking words just to name a few.. this one begs to be read aloud.

  2. wow 🙂

  3. The poem is very enchanted. I find it most interesting that it is based on a Video Game character.
    I must admit, although shallow compared to your poem, I have had serious crushes on a couple of characters. “LOL” 😀

    • Why shallow? I had a huge , enormous crush on Raziel from Soul Reaver. My friend, also a gamer, told me:”The guy doesnt even have a mouth!!!!” and I was like Ye, whatever, lets go print out more posters 😀

  4. Are you sure that’s not your eye? ;0) I love your theory here and your insight into polarities and what happens when you meet them in real life. Isn’t that the way it goes though? And also, you and I are so similar in so many ways, it’s usually what has potential to destroy us that attracts us most! I think your writing here is gorgeous and really, it feels quite organic; especially at the intro. Beautiful as ever, O. :0)

  5. p.s. In regards to your comment to Resa- a guy without a mouth?

    Can I meet him?

    Hehe…

  6. Uf pesma je bas kompleksna pogotovo kad procitah ko je thaddius, moram jos jedan krug… ej ne verujem, ja sam obozavao soul reaver, dok sam pisao za gimnazijske novine jednog junaka price sam nazvao Razijel 😀

    • Hvala Dule! Drago mi je da ima jos Razielovih fanova, pgotovo sada kad niko od novijih generacija nije ni cuo za njega niti igrao te igrice koje sam ja igrala kao mladja. Mi smo od toga pravili price i dozivljaje, nismo imali kompjutere, nego bi se uvek skupili kod nekog ko je imao,pa bi tu docekivali zoru, a sutra u skoli pisali sastave i price o vampirima i kojekakvim relikvijama i ratnicima 🙂

  7. Exquisite and evocative piece of writing, with too many good images to mention. I love the analogy of the video game and real life; opposites getting electrocuted. It’s an interesting way to view and approach our relationships with people in the real world. Opposites do very often attract, but they don’t necessarily stay intact if they go the distance. I’d love to see more of these gamer-life-poems 🙂

  8. Outstanding poem… My favorite verses are: “I eat atmospheres of shaking words/like they are nothing/but a casualty of a truce/ between life and me”
    Excellent, indeed!… All the best to you. Aquileana ;D

  9. I am experiencing the first verses as a prologue of surreal novel. I do not often come across, especially in poetry, on something like that, maybe because I’m an old-fashioned poet 🙂 or If I come across on similar way of expression, the performance is usually bad. But not this time!
    I feel that, in the prologue, is displayed a kind of parallel existence (the first verse clearly indicates the Persona). The fragmentation and decomposition of parts of her face in the first verse, without cliche hallucinogenic overtones clearly give the essence of the world, with a tone of cold the poet defines her or his core of pain. (her/his because it is meaning of universal)
    Also the poet introduces a scenery in which subjects, including times and ages, days… possess fantastic shapes. An amazing design. I adore the falling – asleep scene, I may say so, the escape of a Day with witch’s wing (what a monster :), the unavailability of light as figure, *plus polarity, blend with the explanation given about the monster from video games in footnote. Precisely because is surreal, it looks very real, almost as a warning and intense feeling of inaccessibility, separation and alienation. a very original way to speak about human relations and life ..
    Forth… I am completely drawn into the poem, I hear the music, I play a game of words, I walk the unusual landscapes, I can feel the images and characters change, words are shaking, yes… the poem’s rhythm changes in the second stanza, it’s amazing, it reminds me of the tempo “presto” in musical theory, the poet brought me to the world where, through symbols, are removed all the boring parts in life, which can be a kind of truce, but I give up of further rational interpretation, because suddenly I realize that I am in the magical world where characters float, they are brought from the perspective of diverse worlds and dimensions. Indeed I’ve never seen such an adventurer and a drifter in the poem. It is so magical, flavored with play on archetypes, with the story within the story, with a poem in the poem, a dream within the dream. I really like this poem of wild and frantic, dancing verses!
    Forth.. the poem gets sentimental tones, the poem changes her rhythm, the poem changes her dynamics, just as the symphony.This is visual poetry, this is movie, an absolute poetry, it is musical poetry. The punch lines and messages are discreet, again, far too is freedom in this poem that anyone could, except for themselves to choose the solid interpretation.

    • I am very happy that you have noticed and felt the thriving of euphoria to disconect from disconnection in this poem! Thank you very much for your heartfelt comment, it means the world to me!

  10. P.S “And I lay myself into sheets and he
    descend down the stairs
    and he lays on my soul
    and shivers in the cold, cold, cold
    graveyard of memories
    that he built there,
    waiting each night
    for both of us
    to die a little more.” Beautiful.

  11. I wondered why I wasn’t seeing your posts in my feed, I accidentally unsubscribed. I was pruning my list awhile back, and got bored and was doing it quickly, and you must have slipped in there.

    Wonderful poem! The poem and background for the poem, reminded me of a weird photo I came across online once, of a girl holding a bunch of red balloons in front of her face, and someone off to the side holding up a toy gun aimed at them. Sounded somewhat similar. o_O

    • Don’t sweat it, it happened to me as well, but in my case, some blogs would just misteriously not be in my follow list anymore, without anything form my part.
      I can see how the photo made you feel a connection with this poem. This is a poem about desperation, and walking while carrying it, lugging it around, but still hoping for something you are no longer sure what it is.

  12. I am taken aback by the positives and the negatives. It is as if you realize a truth in your life, by getting to know about the life of the other.
    It has been such an experience for me with this masterpiece.

    To begin with, the first stanza sets an image of “him” which is going to remain with the reader throughout the poem and as the words progress into the tangles of merging complexity, it matters even more to reread the starting words. The second stanza brings about a change in the tone, a contrast weaving a character sketch of the narrator i.e. you. The images thus become a combination of sweet and sad. And then, you treat us with what you call the “electrocution” when these opposites come into contact, of what happens that creates a beautiful chaos, riveting and shocking, budding and destructing. There is both an excitement and a plain old spectator’s unflinching glance in what follows.

    I loved it. It is definitely one of the best of the best by you.

    So many favorite bits: “It’s bruised maroon/and the only way for/it not to hurt/is to blink”, “I too have a face/that even the sky thinks/is a wandering stranger”, “And I lay myself into sheets and he/descend down the stairs/and he lays on my soul”, “all I would ask/is for those stars of yours/to twirl a little on the corner/and shake a bit of stardust/into my beggars palms”.

  13. You did it again. Mindblowing imagery. I don’t even know what to say. lol. Really. Reading your work always offers me a ride to an interesting world. You have a gift with the words, because I can see/feel the surreal reality you portrait. Great job.

    My favorite parts:

    “And I lay myself into sheets and he
    descend down the stairs
    and he lays on my soul
    and shivers in the cold, cold, cold
    graveyard of memories
    that he built there,
    waiting each night
    for both of us
    to die a little more.”

    “all I would ask
    is for those stars of yours
    to twirl a little on the corner
    and shake a bit of stardust
    into my beggars palms
    and we might just both forget
    how it feels to be someone
    who fits into
    this ugly world.”

    … so moving and perfect ending.

  14. It is not a lame poem.

    “I eat atmospheres of shaking words”–how can this be lame. It is exquisite!
    And thanks for the explanation about the WoW. It sheds light as to the inspiration for the poem.

  15. Who was the one always standing on sides coz he would kill others, ah yes 😉

    • That is, if you would manage to survive the jump across! 😀 I remember you were still standing on the edge of one of the platforms, praying your heals reach at least one group 😄 ❤

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