May 31, 2010
My eyes are hollow. I am devoid of all life.
We have deployed our Master, with the speed of a dull knife.
A figure shifts in candlelight, as I thought
Of a brave new cure, I was so sure, that I spit and I dragged and I fought.

So close to something like a thought. And yet,
Needles of fortitude never forget
Something as simple as what I began to pove,
And I sputtered my love for I will and I do.

I am befuddled amidst a deafening wood.
And yes, I thought I could turn waste into jewels, so misunderstood -
And the rabbits are shredding away at my thin,
Destructive skin, I fight from within, to save a heart of heavy tin.

Overtaken by a rush.
Havoc. He is guilty of being forgotten.
Knowing - mountains begin to crush,
And the luscious fancy turns rotten.

Shout to the Meddler,
I meditate to smooth uproar.
And when our troubles push the Peddler,
The diamonds will become a bore,
And I'll save us like never before.

(What fourberie shall they have in store?)

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

krissy775 said...
Jul. 2, 2010 at 11:26 pm

this is really interesting. i like it! dont get me wrong, but i have hard time figuring out the..meaning? of this poem...i can see theres something about maybe cutting? i dnt want to get the meaning of the poem wrong..

but i guess thats the beauty of poetry!

poetry_eyes replied...
Mar. 5, 2011 at 3:04 pm
Yes, there is a brief reference to cutting. I tend to do that a lot, I don't know why, but behind all of the nebulous metaphors and proseic there is some meaning. Mostly I just would just like you to interpret it however you can, however your eyes perceive it. Thank you for the comment =]
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