The Dot of Everything

 

I pick molding moss off of my scalp,

glistening when its dark and not light,

rising to create a supernal hologram

of the spaces between sulci and gyri,

the space that is of insanity that agitates

the fragments of artist that once was,

now shattered in me, its ashes spread.

.

I suck on my thumb for palliative notions

to satiate the thirst for earnest ecstasy

and swirl my left index finger through

a gaping hole in my stomach, tinging

it red, singing like a wren of grave

tendencies for my perplexing mind, to

agitate the beast to growl, to tear me apart.

.

My hair get singed by the graphics of sun,

scorching every emotion into amber

which deems it necessary for me to drench

entirely this body, and wipe away slippery

skin, to bring out what has been hidden

beneath, tattooed red on peeling bones,

keeping me buoyant in lakes of introspection.

.

For Wordle # 8 at MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. Also linking it up with With Real Toads Open Link Monday.

Image source

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17 thoughts on “The Dot of Everything

    • Thanks, Oloriel. If truth be said, I am a little confused by this piece because I don’t find oneness with the style. It seems to me as if I am imitating someone. The thoughts and emotions are mine but the voice seems to be of someone else. May be I am looking at it in a wrong way… I don’t know. 🙂

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      • If you ask me, this is what happens from time to time, I feel as though the words I write, the emotion transcribbed was not my own, yet it came from my mouth, my hand and my pen. I think it is some pain that beckons to band us all poets together.
        It is precious at times, to reread this poem in lets say 5 years from now and see how it makes you feel 🙂

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  1. Khaleesi says:

    I am in awe. I very much enjoy your style and find this piece gripping from start to finish. You have a great ear for internal rhyme. This is probably my favorite line: “I suck on my thumb for palliative notions.”

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  2. wow…quite the write…i like the scorching by the graphics of the sun line…each stanza adds a layer in this one…def your phraseology is top notch in this…

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  3. insanity, earnest ecstasy, emotion scorched to amber, growling of the agitated beast and the lakes of introspection will definitely gather the shards of a fragmented artist to make him a whole….profound lines…

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  4. HA! this is great,
    love “and swirl my left index finger through

    a gaping hole in my stomach, tinging

    it red, singing like a wren of grave

    tendencies for my perplexing mind, to

    agitate the beast to growl, to tear me apart.”

    Like

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