The last of things you'll never read

She pleads to shelter me

Put me inside her glassy sleeve

Be my blushing 

warm scarred voyeur

 

Paint me well 

again

A sin starved 

 canvas

Making love to

Page after page

 

Her brush

Twice my shrug

Her glory

A blinding day

 

Everything

Radiating

And How

In Holiest of Hells

Am I ever

suppose to learn

 

Already well on

 my way to distant sleep

 

Now

Just one clever prick

A single touch

And all 

Becomes my rainy dusk

 

A sleepy crowded radio

 on a stony ridge

 

A fraction of forgetting

Will suffice

If only

I turn back

Now

 

Reviews

[...]

Ya, something else is blooming in your artistry. This is not a complaint lol A stunner, sir!

[Perdition]

,,lol..No it's not. :) Actually I have been sleeping well so who knows perhaps the well needed rest and how dare I, came into their moment where the teeth of want arise and so begins to create before it ever arrives.

[Ben Noah Suri]

Neatly written..... A different experience from the normal pome

[Perdition]

Well..hey.. "different"…about time I heard my poetry described as such..lol. Seriously ..A wonderful as well as honest compliment for
any writer so thank you VERY much~

[Caladoscope]

Really loved this piece. Thank you!

[Perdition]

Thank you so very much…..glad you enjoyed it~

[Kristallo]

I'm really enjoying this new style you've adopted! Each word, each wise and visual phrase, carries such impact- I find myself re-reading several times through as I feel each shade and appreciate each tone like new. And still, you have a gift for first lines that I am constantly in adoration of. This first stanza is gold! Also really loved, "A single touch. And all becomes my rainy dusk." I find strong overtones of lust and a new, unfamiliar relationship budding in this composition. There's the 'fallacy of love' here, or maybe you're just trying to figure s**t out. It's versatile enough to draw different scenerios out of it and I love that... and sometimes, I find a 'fraction of forgetting' will never fully suffice when one considers that if I truly want to forget something, it's probably awful or embarrassing, and i'd rather not remember the majority of it! But that's me. I dream of the day where Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind will become possible and I can shed my shell and transcend. Girlish dreams, I know. But dreams are the fetal precursors to reality. :) Sincerely love this piece, P.

[Perdition]

Ahh "but what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this moral coil must give us pause…"there's the respect. Death? Love? Are they not of the same venom when the heart is considered…"the fetal precursors"…now that could kill me for a lifetime. And in the eternal sunshine wasn't the true gift in remembering (been a while.. MOVIE WEEKEND!!)..lol.
In this one it is death…sleep and many other creatures of specter that have come to my bedside lustfully to sway the poet from his death. That is the struggle..No on elides a happy poet man..lol.
As for the first few lines that's often where the haunting begins don't you think?
You find yourself somewhere and this little moment creeps in through your brow and whispers, "The killer awoke before dawn…he put his boots on..took a face from the ancient gallery"…lol.
Love all that come and push at my brief portal but you're truly a rarity Kristallo. Be by to collect my heart soon…Mwuah~

[Perdition]

"breath…sleep and many.."
.don't you just hate it when the computer jumps your thoughts!

[Perdition]

"likes a happy poet"…good grief!!..lol.I'm out~

[Brittany Zedalis]

"And How
In Holiest of Hells
Am I ever
suppose to learn"

These lines made me laugh. I don't know if they were meant to be funny or not, but to me they were. As always, I really loved this poem. :)

[Perdition]

..lol…well..sorta kinda and maybe..but glad you got it! Thanks Luna C~