tsst___snap ______...fizz... that carbon-aluminium sound it’s a sodaspark cool like jazz cymbals peppy like hot poolside concrete ____slurp___fizz__________ah it won’t ignite your insides no i promise it won’t lure the sunken breath out of you
be assured: your burp won’t have any interpretations whatsoever
A television is an anorexic cave and it echoes when it isn’t talking, so you keep it on, overtime, you flick through keepsake friends to see what’s on for them, but it’s the same old same old you. So you talk about how the weather is a tally of raindrops and lightning strikes measured to heartbeats, measured to deaths per second, measured to the amount of times no one pressed your buttons. The buttons you press at a crosswalk collect intimate fingerprints, cradled like raindrops there, dictations of tears striking pillowcases, layering the lines into networks the way zebras lose themselves in herds on that brutal documentary channel. It leaves you wondering the tally of times a news presenter says the words murderer, shooting, victims, genocide, assaulted in their lifetime. It leaves you echoing beneath the skin where it’s dark and no one can see the tally marks on the allegorical cave walls. So you keep the display on.
bouncin’ down the street and you’re doin’ alright ain’t a downer, ain’t a bubblegum popper in sight ain’t a spill your guts ’n’ make a fussin’ spree got a right to answer monosyllabically
now the facts are what make the world go ‘round yeah, the taxes are paid to worship gods of short-term memories ’n’ short-term remedies to bounce above the taxed sincerities
a heart is muscular organ that is scientifically unable to break there’s solid proof that a heart is a pump not a jack-in-the-box not a jack-in-the-box not a jack-in-the-box not a jack-in-the-box
(whatcha got there on your sleeve, mate, whatcha got whatcha got there on your sleeve?)
[improv] —do you ever get the feeling that your tongue is unravelling (via the throat) every part of you, top to toe, tangling in foreign fingers, friend ’n’ foe, tugging heartstrings taut, to ’n’ fro, plucking melodies out of tune, untrained, stringing you along, hearing everything wrong, head caught in the binding as the fingers are winding your springy box song—
bouncin’ down the street and you’re doin’ alright ain’t a downer, ain’t a bubblegum popper in sight ain’t a spill your guts ’n’ make a fussin’ spree got a right to answer monosyllabically
got a right to answer monosyllabically
ba da ba da ba dum
bouncin’ down the street, yeah you’re bouncin’ down the street bouncin’ down the street, yeah you’re bouncin’ down, the, street
bouncin’ down the street, yeah you’re bouncin’ down the street bouncin’ down the street, yeah you’re bouncin’ down, the, street
in an isolated system… _____this reality cannot sustain the two of us, _____we learn in slow motion: _____the gravitas slumps footfalls _____on a mattress shoved in your closet _______________[a soft landing i would drag over the balcony rails _______________before the sunlit dust particles between us, _______________yet the air never danced fresher] _____a place language scaled your throat for _____behind opaque curtains; multicultural tones – _____daredevils._________daredemons._________dareangels. _____look back at how they would springboard _____off your curtain lips when parted _____and oxidise into a poker hand... ________________i ask you now, barehanded, how could we know ________________if the leap of faith to catch my truth, for me to catch yours ____________was a martyr’s suicide_______or a bomb to end the war ________________if they are both slow, both breath-catching? _____________________(if we couldn’t care either way?) ________________maybe we hoped we’d evolve in the moment ________________and fly away with the particles altogether _____________________(there is nothing to hear in outer space. _____________________not even doom.)
…entropy can only increase. _____a binary star rolls around on your tongue _____and it treads on its own gravity _______________[i was never confident in couple dancing _______________and it shows, sorely] _____your mouth is only room enough for a single bed _____even when it’s open _____yet it keeps inviting me in, and so I go; _____i would listen to the aching springs _____and try to make sense of their dissonance _____in the moments we held each other_____lung for lung; _____i would dream of catching love where it fell _____in slow motion _____so that it wouldn’t, hurt, as, much, _____when i dropped it— _____because, for all your worth, _____i dropped it on the concrete _____and all that dense starbreath _____collapsed in on _____itself.
Last edited by AvantCoffee on Mon Apr 08, 2019 6:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
Ah this latest one is super interesting Coffee! Really creative take on the whole entropy concept, with great imagery pairings and word choice all the way around. There's so much creativity and different styles in all of these, each one's totally new.
Your second poem packed a lot of punch too. I really like this part especially:
The buttons you press at a crosswalk collect intimate fingerprints, cradled like raindrops there,
Such a weird thought, but it works!! I look forward to reading more poetry from you. <3
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
Thanks @alliyah <3 This NaPo seemed like a good opportunity to go wild with styles and creativity, mostly for the fun of it, but also to test my own uncertain poetic voice by taking risks and working out what belongs naturally to me. It's doubtful but an illegal amount of fun~
7. is the sky blue? is blue the sky? (abstraction feat. me trying to catch the NaPo train)
the skyis blue the blue is sky sky blue sky blue blue is the sky blue sky blue sky sky is the blue blue blue sky (sky) blue the sky is sky (sky blue) blue sky the blue is
Right so I might add more to this one but I ran out of time (and it works as is... uh, possibly let's pretend it does)
8. prayers that dissipate with the vapour
I kneel on lapping shores in migratory days. These voices carry oars no matter what they say –
yet tell me I was here at the dusk frontier. Names upon the tide tug and pull me dry; give me strength to say goodbye.
And the childhood tangle evanesces as the crime of many years undresses: by kneeling still I drift away from them, don’t give me up too soon, don’t cast me into time…
I don't record myself much so excuse the suckiness (I literally just recorded harmonies over the first recording while it played hah). It's not super perfect but I tried to go for a religious tone. The melody is based off the song The Prayer by Andrea Bocelli and Celine Dion as a symbolic reference but the lyrics/words are my own.
Aah damnit I'm wincing at hearing myself singing xP
When I get time I might record a better version of this (probably with more lyrics/words)
Being a hero doesn't mean you're invincible. It just means that you're brave enough to stand up and do what's needed. — Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena
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