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Unfinished synchrony
by Laura DoomThese stir-crazed lovers
pale as sun-scorched plastic
cannot be touched by tones
or pressurized by pulses;
the life of day is passed
oblivious to the grind
of righteous indignation.
Cleansed of inhibition
they get dirty in the shower
and plunge blind into night.
Afraid of the light?
Does he regard her as canvas
undeserving of oils?
Is she tormented by spectres
in sheets?
I am in the dark.
A flick of a switch, the card
slips home, a slough of images
slides the small screen; I get down
to my digital exploration
in the wetlands of imagination. 01/25/2010 Posted on 01/25/2010
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 01/25/10 at 11:41 PM I adore this line..."Cleansed of inhibition
they get dirty in the shower" -it's wicked and wanton and graciously true...this piece is a wonderful bit of subtle two-step technicolour thrills...I like how you paint, I love how you think. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 01/26/10 at 12:55 AM Wonderful write lady. You have a great imagination and I need a cold shower. |
| Posted by Michael Smith on 01/26/10 at 04:51 AM You wanna know what my definition of success is, Laura? THIS! ¡Este poema aquí! The style is dripping with Doom -- wet with perfectly placed consonance and word-play, massively enriching dichotomy, and the sort of word-choice which drives the tongue like a European sports car in the Autobahns. Not a syllable wasted, and seemingly full of attentive intention. Can't say enough about this magnificent work, really... Thanks so much for sharing it with us!
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| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/26/10 at 05:08 PM whew.... (dabbing brow), subtly just below the surface. Well done. |
| Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 01/26/10 at 10:39 PM Excellent from day to night to closed doors trip this takes us where some dare go. smh |
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