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Art of Falling Apart
by Sam RobertsDumb distant, delicate flower
terrible turbulence that I might aspire
to be.
If only -
the lust, livid, lucid, dream dust
would fill the free forgotten head traffic of me.
The body and bouldering bellows of my screams
that come from within, cataclysmic dreams
I portray.
To stay.
The same.
And it is with this gladly black heart
that I try to find some kind of art
to write in the stillness of this utopian terrible façade
I am frivolous.
I part, but I can't
control the wonderful wiliness, the stillness that I expire.
My heart like the glorious sun sunken optimal wreck that I am
with the hand sown downwards in my lost pondering pen
the prick, ink, pretentious start
that I so desperately want to fall apart
and fine.
It's the life.
A long vein of the weird valley
that I live and breathe.
This forgotten alley.
And better to know where I am from, than to pull from its cages
of solemn nostalgia numbed out town.
The rages.
Of the ages.
I walk in a shadow of the bereaved
So. Shaken. Down.
In the vast hysteria of my laughter greened out frown
Sad.
Derelict.
for here we are, inferior
and the spasm controlled ulterior
I feed.
Fire.
Of this frenzy demolition, exterior
The body. mind. soul.
The wanderer. I withhold.
The pretender. I expose.
The hatred. I enfold.
For the eyes only enveloped in this mould
could one day evolve.
Anyway, this is a nonsense, never to be told
REVOLVE.
Allow the manifestation to awake it from the dead
and led, by my terrible ways, of wandering into the paves of days
dusk, dawn, and grabbing sheets
for the shy and shrivelled skin that live
that weep and see, the days that we give
We are all waiting.
For something.
03/03/2014 Author's Note: cathartic drunken ramble
Posted on 03/03/2014
Copyright © 2025 Sam Roberts
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 03/03/14 at 03:28 PM I like this. It seems a bit raw in form still....very expressive with many good lines embedded...a more polished version could easily be distilled from this...[just IMHO] :) |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 03/03/14 at 04:51 PM With all due respect to Clara, "raw" is a good reflection of this poem's content--I think it could be even more raw, but I like the change in format from what I saw yesterday. With a focus on rhyme and alliteration to give the sound form, the long paragraph that this sound twists around in allows the expressed feelings room to dance and clash amidst the fragmentation of lines all cluttered together without breaks. I agree with Clara that this could still use edits, but I like the way it's progressing Sam. If anything, I'd focus more on sound as well as smoothing out (just a little bit) some of the more jarring grammatical junctures that came to the fore when you stripped out the line breaks. Unless, of course, the line breaks disappeared by accident while you were editing. In which case, you may ignore this comment ;) |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 03/03/14 at 04:53 PM Grrr. My browser must be playing tricks on me; the line breaks have returned. Never mind. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 03/04/14 at 11:08 AM Line breaks/explicit content edited in/out; Jim's 'raw' has trimmed its claws. More art, less angst--what was your original intention? Does your Author's Note still apply (?) |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/04/14 at 03:23 PM For cathartic and drunken, it sounds pretty lucid to me. A captivating extension of your unique style of applying alliteration. I don't have time to go through it line by line and critique as others have, but after a couple of reads, it looks pretty good to me. Personal turmoil seems to be a running theme through a lot if not most of your work. It would be nice to see you branch out into something more concrete and positive to add variety to your repertoire. As Pink Floyd would say, "Shine on you crazy diamond." |
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