Array ( [sid] => 183468 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Paper Playmates [time] => 2016-08-25 22:14:46 [hometext] => Books to save and soothe [bodytext] =>
A human cattle-prod
of stinging tongue once stung bare my heart,
robbed my race,
stilled my start;
Oh, to think of then, diminishing returns
those hollow clinks, passing for years,
reminding me (I think) of when
I could not face what has been,
heart turned hard to port from those fears-
eyes habited low to mere reflections of above,
the sun, joy, love-
shadows, my only partners,
dancing wall to wall unobstructed,
playroom cries at gray shadows, spawn of darkened sun,
alone,
but I had everyone-
Oh, such company!,
my paper playmates, these;
only blanket shared with Jean Valjean,
iced breath clouding Russian misery-
my Gulag danced Stalin/'/s dream;
those years that should have meant the most-
Lo!, still remain I chained to my own ghost,
Oh, fresh pain!, a century sliced near half,
(even now) I toss ill soothed,
weeping too, “Lay down the past!”, and I try…
I do,
through quartered chatter of projections,
tinkling dinners;
of course, vapid diners live their moment/'/s truth
that holds no part for me (they see);
showing them a wrinkle free smile
pure as Chantilly lace,
a mile wide, invisibly glued in place,
though I/'/m ever prey to memory/'/s cattle-prod-
holding, held at bay relentless, my facade;
invisible to all, but even now I toss.
still following shadows on empty walls,
though coolly casual, my falangle waves,
in timed perfection (of practice ill), to nods and smiling eyes-
such a shame, this mastered skill. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 238 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Paper Playmates


Paper Playmates
Date: Thursday, 25th August 2016 @ 10:14:46 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Invierno

A human cattle-prod
of stinging tongue once stung bare my heart,
robbed my race,
stilled my start;
Oh, to think of then, diminishing returns
those hollow clinks, passing for years,
reminding me (I think) of when
I could not face what has been,
heart turned hard to port from those fears-
eyes habited low to mere reflections of above,
the sun, joy, love-
shadows, my only partners,
dancing wall to wall unobstructed,
playroom cries at gray shadows, spawn of darkened sun,
alone,
but I had everyone-
Oh, such company!,
my paper playmates, these;
only blanket shared with Jean Valjean,
iced breath clouding Russian misery-
my Gulag danced Stalin/'/s dream;
those years that should have meant the most-
Lo!, still remain I chained to my own ghost,
Oh, fresh pain!, a century sliced near half,
(even now) I toss ill soothed,
weeping too, “Lay down the past!”, and I try…
I do,
through quartered chatter of projections,
tinkling dinners;
of course, vapid diners live their moment/'/s truth
that holds no part for me (they see);
showing them a wrinkle free smile
pure as Chantilly lace,
a mile wide, invisibly glued in place,
though I/'/m ever prey to memory/'/s cattle-prod-
holding, held at bay relentless, my facade;
invisible to all, but even now I toss.
still following shadows on empty walls,
though coolly casual, my falangle waves,
in timed perfection (of practice ill), to nods and smiling eyes-
such a shame, this mastered skill.

This poem is Copyright © Invierno


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