The Ruins.
My cigar smoke breath whispers no more
Steadily I twist and bend
Perfecting my bullshit design
And yours
Since you gave up years ago.
These teeth do not construct smiles
These teeth bite into meat
into flesh
and tear from the bone.
Your tears only waste paper
Incoherently, you scribble down thoughts.
We're just a blur, you and I
a flash of light fading before the eyes of millions
and somehow we still manage
to have a good day
now and then...
but we're losing.
- William Pauley III
(added 04.06.09)
Writer’s Block.
I’ve come to tell you a story,
but the words never reach your ear.
They all stick to my skin like
a million bits of styrofoam.
They slither down my spine,
but never to your ear.
They crawl around my knees,
but never to your ear.
They gather around my ankles,
but never to your ear.
Never to your eye, never to your ear.
I stumble around the room.
It all feels like a sinking ship to me.
The waves.
The crashing.
The terror.
I stumble around the room.
I slip.
I'm grounded.
Just then my stomach roars and out through my mouth gushes a projectile of conversations.
With every contraction more and more gush out.
Through my nose.
Through my mouth.
Until my stomach is emptied.
I black out.
I wake twenty minutes later to find my clothes completely soaked with thoughts.
The floor soaked with dreams.
Never to your eye, never to your ear.
No one is here to help me move.
No one is here to help me to my feet.
Doorknobs snap when I apply my weight.
The blood that pours is merely memories.
Never to your eye, never to your ear.
I finally make it to my feet.
To the bathroom.
I flip the switch and the light burns out my eyes.
I squint until my vision returns.
Eyes open.
I'm a mess.
I wash my face and gargle some water.
I spit out the remainder of definitions,
some words I forgot I knew,
down the drain.
Towel to face.
Skin turns pink.
I examine my teeth.
Words creep around in every crevice,
as if to be peeking over a wall.
They are most definitely there.
I can feel them.
Living.
Breathing.
Multiplying in my mouth.
With every word I try to speak.
Words,
they cover my teeth like a mouthful of plaque.
They eat at the insides.
They eat at me, but never at your ear.
Never to your eye, never to your ear.
- William Pauley III
(added 04.06.09)
It’s only the dark.
There is a certain part of me that sleeps
during the daytime,
that stays awake during the nighttime:
we only see eye to eye on middle grounds.
This part of me is hidden underneath skin.
Underneath bone.
Underneath blood.
Buried.
Just like my heart.
Connections are often bad, or cut loose.
I sometimes hear nothing but screaming.
Though not through voice.
Through color.
It's only the dark.
It makes me feel completely empty…
sometimes.
I don't feel it so much right at this moment.
Instead I hear thumping.
My pulse.
My pulse.
My pul_____________.
I miss you.
I miss you so much,
my dreams are filled with you.
And there is always a part of me that stays awake through it all.
- William Pauley III
(featured in the poetry forum 04.06.09) |
