The What of Things

escaped_the_prison_they_called_the_head_by_chriseastmids-dbkoe1p

*Image found HERE

The What of Things

Open a dictionary
and look up disaster.
It’s Monday,
my right hand
grips the teaspoon,
my left hand
sends the archduke
to explore the wound.
An exhibit of my voice
pounds my gut
and I ask no one in particular
why do I always sound
just like
a child, begging for a mercy kill.
a junction
of oregano, magenta lace skirts
drooping to the floor,
dripping sorrow down
into the mausoleum of the carpet,
one knife for chicken breasts, one for
potatoes, one for butter, one for peaches,
names like tremolo,
like angel corpses
falling of the edge of a broken lip
into the mass grave of wherevers floor;
my appartment with no doors,
my soul is dead, and bored
from mundane chores
of sweeping, and raking, and picking and taking
and splicing the sunshine like
A and B and O, like
make up, for the preacher,
like secretaring for ghosts,
like wallowing in the heroine of the guitar
at eight in the morning, like
Mary’s bloody lamb
with the bowels out for pie
and rejuvenation potions,
like crosswords and spreadsheets,
like fresh bedsheets,
like looking left, looking right, like bending over, like
smelling the lavender,like
crushing some in your pocket,
like cutting a strand of hair
and prisoning it in a locket,
like living, but
waiting
to die.

~ by Oloriel on August 21, 2017.

21 Responses to “The What of Things”

  1. Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.

  2. Reblogged this on Richard M. Ankers – Author and commented:
    Fabulous writing from the always fabulous Mirjana. Please take a look at her work.
    Richard

  3. I was reading about radiophotographs – shadowy images in Hiroshima and Nagasaki of what existed at the moment of a nuclear bomb’s flash. It’s glowing here: “It’s Monday, / my right hand / grips the teaspoon, my left hand / sends the archduke /to explore the wound.” This living, this waiting to die. No bones in this bag, but a flash … and ghosts …

  4. I love this whole thing very, very much, but I liked the line “splicing the sunshine like A and B and O” – comparing sunlight to blood, brilliant. I was wowed by this! Amazing.

  5. Wow, it’s so wonderful to read more poetry from you again :), I’ve missed it and you. I hope you are well, we keep missing each other on Facebook 😦

    • Thanks for dropping by! I tend to not be online on Facebook much, mostly let Seth play games on it, but you can alway drop me a line! Hope you are well! ❤

      • I hope you are well yourself 🙂 Been through a bit of a blip lately, not been on my blog for a bit but I’m getting back into things, slowly (sorry for the late reply) 🙂

  6. I love the way you start this.. to me it’s about coping in a world where everything is falling apart… disaster is spelled monday

  7. Very well written. ⭐ You are very talented.
    You sound frustrated, if I am to take your art sincerely. I adore you, and please be well! ♡

  8. I always feel like I’ve taken acid when reading your work, I swear…heheh. Seriously, by the time I get to the 6th line or so, I get a strange feeling creeping over me, like I’m Alice- shrinking. It’s not unpleasant at all. 😉 I have REALLY missed your work, O. x

    • Drugs without the drugs is a pretty fine deal if you ask me! I really missed you in general ❤

      • I agree with you on that one. That’s why, every now and then, I like to stay up all night- for like 30 hours straight. Poor man’s buzz. 😉 I’ve missed you too and I’m glad to see you’re still cranking out the work! Sometimes I have to just go away and “quit the world”- crawl into my hidey hole and peek out now and then…heheh. I know you get it though. 😉 x

      • I sure do! I am on quite the hiatus myself, so I completely understand. It does make me happy to see my favourite faces when I do pop in! ❤

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