Meant to heal the healer,
Allowing it to lick the wailing wound,
Swallow what is saner,
Then the orator who framed and ruined,
I am now the speaker,
Let the spirit sleep and you be doomed,
And yet it still looks like a love-in-a-mist,
And it still feels like I am optimist…!?
Oh creator of illusion… I ask?
How would you steal the ego without a fight?
How could you feel that way about a knight?
How long will it be until you say to the night?
That you created a Maria on the moon to my sight.
The blind crow screeched loud and fled,
For it is time to unlock the cage and for me to be fed,
Fret upon the lost and build a bed,
Search for the wing’s feathers and take a colorful rest,
All of you join me in this tale that no one read,
Let us all stand on the altar with a sacrifice on each head,
And yet it still smells like an alkanet,
And it still feels like I am optimist…!?
Oh creator of delusion… I ask?
Why would you mistake me for an innocent fool?
Why could you not tell me that I was a torn tool?
Why should you lie to me, the saint and the ghoul?
That you created a Maria on the moon for me to pull!?
Up, Down. Up and Down, and the center I live in,
Up to the clouds, behind the gates and beyond the throne,
Down under the earth to the perfume’s source where it has grown,
And the center of this triangle I sketched and drawn,
Baffled and the answer is possibly written on my bones,
And yet it still cures like glance at a sweet violet,
And it still feels like I am optimist…!?
Oh creator of reflection… I ask?
When will the gibbous recognize that it’s not the perfect whole?
When will we reflect the last light to no other but a mere soul?!
When will you tell the mirrors that each was sand out of holes?
Tell them that there is a Maria waiting on the moon for us to reach and fall,
But what do you expect me to do?
To reach a piece without a piece is what no one knows,
And so I was pushed to weep again but to face the new,
A cry of a new born into a world I now embrace,
Abundant with the dreamers I was and I will never face,
And it awakes like a scarlet lily,
I am real and we are here to end you my dear,
Oh creator of Maria… I demand of you,
Surrender, forfeit, forgive and let live,
There is nothing on the moon but what you must give,
Blind our eyes and we will heal them by the matter,
Shut our mouths and we will write like our fathers,
Make us deaf and we will point with no manners,
Pour the water on the fire,
Pour the celestial water on the earthly fire,
Pour life into rage into grudge into hate into dust,
Into gap into child into infant into saint into us,
And you will not have what it takes,
Only a lonely Maria staring back at what it makes,
And now it feels like I have stuck my toes into the ground,
Planted my roots and sucked what I have proudly found,
And bloomed beyond the center that everyone surrounds.
__________________ You probably Don't know this....
We pump gas in a camel's ass !
You have a very classical voice, as such, might i suggest semicolons? You need a bit of grammar, but i find a lot of great one-liners: you paint with words on occasion. It sounds like a spell at times.
Is Maria your personification of those lost in negativity and observation?
You actually in kuwait? And what's this aboot camel's asses and gas?
You have a very classical voice, as such, might i suggest semicolons? You need a bit of grammar, but i find a lot of great one-liners: you paint with words on occasion. It sounds like a spell at times.
Is Maria your personification of those lost in negativity and observation?
You actually in kuwait? And what's this aboot camel's asses and gas?
yeah i am kuwaiti...
about the camel's ass and gas thingy, i just thought it ryhmed so i posted it...
well i agree on the grammar part. i am kuwaiti so i find some walls ahead of me in english, and pardon me for asking; whats a semicolons??
Maria means alot of things in this poem, for example, did you hear of the term "fake seas on the moon" ...
thanks for reading.
__________________ You probably Don't know this....
We pump gas in a camel's ass !
Never heard of fake seas on the moon. Are you kidding about the semicolon? You just used one (this thing ; ). I just see a lot of this as kind of a flowing, verbal sonata, if that makes sense. A semicolon ties connected ideas together without using a full stop.
Read ''A Portrait of The Artist As A Young Man," if you wish to see a sublime example of semicolon usage. The book requires a lot of Irish history, as the author's life ties in closely to politics and discussions about poiltics in the early years of his life.
"They fought and they clawed like savages. At the end none had found what they were looking for; and they simply returned to nothing, like they were before."
"They fought and they clawed like savages. At the end none had found what they were looking for; and they simply returned to nothing, like they were before."
