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Discourse
by Scott Cadence
The world tonight
is represented
on my floor
In a condom
It is everything I am
and cannot be
There are doors in my heart
that will not shut,
and the world is blown away
We are impatient things,
consisting of all that is brilliant and dismal -
Each a fiber outstretched in muscle
contracting as a whole
It is easy to get lost in the motion
Consumed in the Sensorium
till my own biorhythm becomes
some off beat elevator music
in the background of a descending
spiral
Where fingers round off into droplets
to hold the weight of oceans
when touch becomes patient skill
and looks rhetorical as questions
when hair is taught how to stand
on-end through constant chill -
when my emotion became knowledge
and knowledge became science
When did I become the great destroyer
of my own heart...
It happened on a night like this
In the death of God
the birth of men on his floor the same
till we are all our own Gods
and our love for ourselves
is not enough
05/17/2004 Author's Note: I sometimes forget the point.
Posted on 05/17/2004
Copyright © 2024 Scott Cadence
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Meghan Helmich on 07/09/08 at 12:43 PM you had me in the first stanza, which i suppose, is the point. i'm just so tired of reading these existential, abstract poems with no base. nothing concrete to anchor to. and you really gave me what i needed here. good job, scott. i could follow this to the end :) |
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