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 Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 10:56 am
Vivica's Poetry: A Collection Welcome. Since I enjoy poetry, this shall be a thread to keep my poetry in. I hope you all enjoy it.
Comments or critique are completely welcome and appreciated. The picture is accredited to me, and is of me. XD
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 11:01 am
Pomegranates and Lilies
I taste pomegranate lips on
the collar of my shirt-she was there.
The red stain ignites fiery fumes of
curls over my face-it’s her hair.
Smells so succulent and dripping into
my cupped hands to capture her scent.
The juices are savoured in my throat and
it’s out flared nostrils they vent.
Iridescent passion is locked inside
this entrapment of energy we’ve found.
These ropes shimmer and shine while
they keep us sacrificed and bound.
We pray for no saving grace to
rescue our bewildered hearts.
We will take our consternation and
conjure love in all the parts.
I feel fruitful blossoms in
the chambers of my soul-she’s here.
The strawberry scented lilies of summer fold
under my skin-we’ve no fear.
Self Depriving Parasitic Demise
Self-awareness will save you.
Self-destruction will save you.
An exhaustion and the rebuttal
from an institution of the cause.
Can you feel your insides bleeding?
I sure can.
You want the water to leak through it;
the lake is overflowing, so drink it.
Jumping down the hole, following
the rabbit.
Tasteless substances won't satisfy,
so increase you're waste run-off
and intensify the solution.
Will it constitute your reasoning
and bring forth your culminations
of self-depriving parasitic demise?
Feed off the antidotes provided by
your sins.
And explain to the ghostless bodies
that you're all self-explanatory.
It's all written on your skin
in picture-perfect
self-depriving parasitic demise.Here In Me
Feel breaths on cold necks
and still I shiver
with my cheek pressed to ice
and your hands up my shirt.
Don’t blame the air for the smoke
billowing passed your rouged lips,
it’s all a part of your destiny
here in me.
Here in me-
we lie.
and
I'm lost.
There are no directions;
no map to guide us.
and sometimes-
all the time-
the violence is destructive
here in me.
And you should expect me to
explode
under pressure:
like a time bomb latched to
a dead corpse
I serve no purpose
to you.
Here in me.First Dance
Coral A-line hems
mark the absence of
tawdry, modern sex-symbols.
Rosebuds pinned to lapels
and straight ironed pant legs
conceal innocence and the
fresh growth of masculine hair.
Quivering hands avoid knees, chests,
and other forbidden sweets.
Lips moist with nervous sweat
search for no touch or tongue,
only ask,
“Would you like to dance?”
Feet fitted with chunky, small heels
give girls fresh into adolescence
the impression of womanly goods.
Downplayed beats and soft singing
offer common grounds to every young body
quaking with anxiety and anticipation,
but hungry for swaying hips and shuffling shoes.
The prey without predators
find solace at the peachy punch bowl
where conversation is scarce
but at the very least
humiliation is avoided.
The entire night is
a mere catalyst
for raging hormones and
irrepressible drama.
The folded and primped beds awaiting
the return of teenage experience
will find no semen stained sheets or
young minds strained of passion.
Only frivolous dreams of young love
and limbs weary with the nights movements.
Muscle memory and brain cells will
work as a team in creating
a painted picture of the night
to tuck away in the back of
young minds.
For You, Love
For you
I’ll linger on the dusty sidelines
And watch
as you fumble in all your elegant beauty.
For you
I’ll be the ever-present strong, silent type
and listen
for your strained voice to come through.
For you
I’ll fade into a distant, foggy horizon
and feel
nothing to compare with your lips to my skin.
For you
I’ll wait under a blanket of a night sky
with patience
For you.
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 11:17 am
White Illness
Flat liners and your signature
carved into the bed frame.
Outside your door, which is
sickly white,
handprints line the walls.
one of those hands is yours-
discoloured by now with age
and illness.
Maybe it’s time to make a new one.
But you’re passed the place where
construction paper and crayons
brought you hope.
The only solace you find now is
in fuzzy T.V screens igniting
static sound-waves in the room
to cover up the consistent beep of
an unstable heart rate.
Loved ones tell you they treasure the days you’re alive,
But the only way you live now is through wires,
heavy medication and confinement
to a dull room
painted white.
You know, after all this time,
white’s supposed to be cheery.
How ironic.
Baggage and Thirst
A bulky intestinal bulge
sits just below the sunburned surface
of your stomach.
Your swollen on the inside
and it’s showing on the outside.
The luggage beneath your eyes are filled with
screaming children and
spilled tomato juice
no doubt.
And you look at me expecting some form of
-emotional liposuction-
that I just can’t give you.
So I hold out my oil stained hands
and let you grab hold for all you’ve got.
You’re skin is like dried apricots
and your grip is weak.
I offer you a glass half-full,
but you’re not strong enough
to embrace it’s quench
just yet.
Instead you let go
and swallow a handful of salt.
Your thirst is all you have
and so it’s what you live by.
You’re thirst is all you know
and you’ll die with it.
Archaeological Dig
Here is what I’ve created for you:
a grided site for you to excavate.
Get your tools ready and in order,
let’s get ready to recreate.
I’m just bones and mass buried here,
but if you read between the lines
that are scraped across my flesh,
you may discover my intestines.
Reach in and feel around-
you might be surprised.
My systems are fully functional
on bad habits and little lies.
You might find my juices bubbling-
be sure to take note of this occurrence.
It’s not common one would see this,
but in me it’s a common recurrence.
Let’s dig a little deeper into my strata;
let’s get past the physical needs,
and return again to the in situ
where my bad habits begin and feed.
Look far back in your notes
because you’ve been here before.
Once when my lithic cover shattered
and there was no time to have it restored.
And it was at that time I felt your lips
softly pressing their way around the site.
An experimentation of sorts on your part,
that left me without strength to put up a fight.
My spine was immobilized-
and your fingers gently searched me.
Though fear shot through my face
your hands explored so freely.
I can remember your intense eyes
and the way they grazed the truth.
I remember how they drank me in
like a tall glass of sweet vermouth.
It’s been too long since you’ve come here,
and I have yet to rebuild those ramparts.
So consider this now an open invitation
to stay a while and sift through my parts.
Rotted Flesh and Ectasy
Hands inside her
Retracting
Instigating reactions
Inside.
Convulsions
Of the desperate kind.
Flesh covered bones protruding
And intrudiung
On the skin warped presence
Of pain.
A hate and a burst
Of this passion
To release
Her.
Lips and sweat on the neck
To seal the deal
And kill off the addiction.
Pockets full of the romances
Of the night, are emptied
Into the covers that fall
Spread out like butter
Beneath us.
Salty tastebuds tasting
Pieces of her metallics
And construction maps.
I melt with each lick
Of her tongue.
I scream with each kiss
And I cry with each
Alarm.
In no way to be.
In no way to see.
Grab at me
And tear away this rotten flesh
Until we are only muscels;
The treasures hidden beneath
Death.
Tear at each other
Until there is no more to do
But be in pure
And utter
Ecstasy.
Dehydration
I’ve fled to the wake of my dreams
Oh, how I know I’ll miss them now
that they’ve fallen beneath my scars.
It seems to be I’m lost in a fog,
and on the inside I’m drying out
from all this nonsense I’ve found.
Can’t anything be real in this place?
I need a drop of moisture to moisten
the lifeless parts of my purpose
I’m floating alone in an exert of time
without a reason and a knife in hand.
Maybe this blood will hydrate my skin.
In the end my skin flakes and falls away
revealing the shriveled remnants of who I was-
and it is in that vulnerable place that you see me.
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2008 11:26 am
Let Me Read You Soul
Can you unfold your secrets from that cloth?
Yes, the silk looks soft to touch, I know,
but I’m much more interested in what it hides.
Can you open your mind, if only for a moment?
It’s true, you have the face of a beauty,
but what I really want is hidden behind that mask.
Is that chest filled with your untold thoughts?
It looks delicate; untouched. When you open it-
if you do- can I be there to see it’s treasures?
You can’t tell me there is room in your head
for so many words and unfinished stories. Really,
you should tell me everything you don’t want to say.
Because I’m here for you, and I understand.
Let me indulge myself with my ravenous talons
and feed upon your pain and privacy.
Fall
With the sun sitting upon the watered horizon
and the clouds coloured like cotton candy
I want to take your hand in mine and just
Fall.
There’s a summer breeze tickling my skin,
and crickets are composing symphonies
while all I want is to be with you and just
Fall.
The moon hangs with an ominous manner
and the stars surround it in respect of it's place.
Your face is in my mind; find me and we’ll just
Fall.
A Place of Comfort
I’m floating here in this river
watching the clouds twist undesirably.
Some people dream of living there,
but, that’s not where I want to be.
My thoughts take me to a different place-
a place where I’m immersed in green
and there are red hairs frayed in front of my eyes
chopping up all the things I’ve ever seen.
Where I go in my mind it is pale
and dotted with tiny freckles
strategically placed all around me.
I find myself hiding amongst the speckles.
Is this a place my imagination conjured?
Or did I once find comfort in such a reality?
It seems a blur of symptoms and smiles to me
when I try to decipher my strength and frailty.
The water rushes over my body, submerging me.
I let myself sink to the rocky bottom of the riverbed.
I close my eyes and my mouth shut into tight lines.
I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m there instead.
Want the Sin
If you handed me the sun,
it would burn my skin.
So please don’t give me anything.
Whatever I want from you is Sin.
I’ve waited forever on your front porch
watching the stars melt away from the sky.
And all I want from you is living there;
let’s keep it that way, there’s no reason to lie.
If you handed me the moon,
you’d see it and I are not akin.
So please don’t give me anything.
Whatever I want from you is Sin.
I kept my head buried in the sand
until time came and tapped me on the shoulder
and told me what I want I’ll never find.
So here I am, forced to say it’s over.
If you handed me your heart,
we both know it wouldn’t fit in.
So please don’t give me anything.
Whatever I want from you is Sin.
Rest Assure
Touch it and let it fall.
The flowers are in bloom;
a bed to be rest assured,
The Rain spins from a loom.
Clouds are adrift above the hills.
Tumble like a tumbleweed;
meet me at the bottom;
we’ll watch it grow from a seed.
Way up high is where we’ll begin-
sudden thunder through the sky.
Find a lightning bug along the way,
stay with me and watch time pass by.
Be rest assured,
we’ll never move.
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