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The Weight of Clairvoyance
by V. Blakei have felt
a thick miasma
of stardust
and bloodlust,
and plasma--
polluting me
like an asthma
of the intellect
for years.
through cracks
in tearducts,
it's been hazing me--
and glazing me over;
slowly phasing me
in and out of
flood and drought to
farther back than
footsteps go.
and i have watched it
deftly dissect the
last remains of
answers you chained to
operating tables
on my tongue.
and it will remain till
long past the day that
paranoia burns those
holes in my eyelids,
and it turns out that
even those don't
persuade you to ask me
what the hell went wrong. 04/19/2010 Posted on 04/19/2010
Copyright © 2024 V. Blake
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/21/10 at 03:10 PM Hells yeah. |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 04/21/10 at 06:08 PM We are perpetual victims of what we know -the truth sets us free only to the extent that we can no longer claim to be bound by ignorance -but the weight of knowing, of remembering, of being filled up with this certainty that is more burdensome than enlightening...is one of life's difficulties. A beautiful bit of scintillating insight into the torment that awareness can create, and of the horror that casual negligence can inflict. |
| Posted by Julie Adams on 04/25/10 at 05:21 PM this extended metaphor, unlike many I have read, doesnt grow trite or dull or cheesy, it is filled with surprising lines, lines I wish I wrote ("like an asthma/ of the intellect" or ALL of stanza 3)...you never cease to amaze, to inspire, to bring me back to my craft...peace n poems to u, poetman... ~jewels xo |
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