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Cities of the Apocalypse

by primrose22

The word deceives me.
At first soothed and
hissy until it reaches that
t – smacking against the ceiling of your mouth like the punch
of the ferret kid in the boxing ring
in and out, fierce and quick, hook with a snap then
The next sound,
that terse e – does little to
Soothe it. But anyway the damage is already done. Whatever trust
There was between us has
been shat
tered like a bajillion sheets of skyscraper glass
under the shockwaves of the far-off bomb.
Because how can I trust
something that first is smooth and then
first here and then
Such a thing deceives me.
How do I know cities
Even existed
When all that’s left are jagged bricks and twisted steel,
Covering the sidewalks like a carpet
God tacked to the ground?
The farther I walk,
The softer the carpet
Becomes, bits of plaster
And scraps of plastic giving rise
To dust
And cinders.
Always here at city hall
I am at night,
And it’s cold
and the moon’s pale
light shining dully behind layers of clouds illuminates
a plain of dust
And cinders.
But I like it this way,
Because this way
It is better
Than day.
Such a thing
Cannot deceive me.
I see you here
Here at night—    
As I imagine that these formless mounds
Of ash are hummocks of dirt and peat,
Wet and soft,
Humming hushed until spring comes
to impregnate them.
Often there is no wind.
And if there were the dust
Would by now be scrubbed away like grime
Under a sponge, and then only the graying dirt
Would remain. And in the distance—
splintered wood and moldered homes.
The word
The thing
(I lied.) It does deceive me.
At least at night,
So that I don’t have to pretend
that the shaded horizon holds something better
Than miles and miles of debris.
Right now only what I can see is wrong,
and everything else
is good, and I can escape if I
feel like it, if I just
pick a direction and

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User avatar
157 Reviews

Points: 22293
Reviews: 157

Sun May 26, 2013 7:02 pm
ERZA wrote a review...

So beautiful and untamed poem you have written! Absoolutely awesome! It was a bit too long maybe because of the descriptions and all but I cannot help but wish it was a bit shorter! Anyways this piem is so mesmerising it got me speechless! So much expression and vivid varying colors!! Loved it! Theres no particular central theme but this is a good thing as it makes the poem more good also the shifting point of views of the poem makes it look less of a poem an more of a visual story like a short movie or something! This has no particular storyline but hey that does not matter as this poem looks better without it! Keep up the awesome work and keep writing this sorts of poetry I will be waiting. I want to more of your works so I will be waiting! :-D :-D

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304 Reviews

Points: 22897
Reviews: 304

Sun May 26, 2013 9:03 am
barefootrunner wrote a review...

Hi there! Welcome to YWS!

barefoot here to review :)

Firstly... I loved this! It is so utterly beautiful and it is so spectacularly visual! Let others wrangle — I shall wonder.

Good spelling and grammar. Good form. Beautiful free verse in good taste. Nice word choice. And the most ridiculously admirable visuals I have ever read. You, my friend, have talent. It even has a tangy, punchy end! Delicious poetry!

Now, the only word that sort of stood out and caught me, was bajillion. Million is perfectly sufficient!

This poem takes the reader on a ride, very personal and intense, very intimate and yet so large, it constantly shifts the reader's focus to another point visually. Very well construed!

You had better keep writing... Or I will be knocking on your door ! :D


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34 Reviews

Points: 525
Reviews: 34

Sun Apr 28, 2013 2:58 pm
planve wrote a review...

Uhhhhhh...ok? Well, kinda can't explain how i felt about the poem. Narrative poems were never things of my heart but i guess i wanted to try reading this first. To tell the truth, it was kinda boring in the first portion but my attention kept falling down. The only line which seemed to catch me in a smile was-"And in the distance- splintered wood and moldered homes."
But don't feel down. I wouldn't have taken the time to read and comment if i didn't believe it could become something good...try working on it again.

Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.
— Søren Kierkegaard