The Rack

The Rack

A Poem by James William Dyer
"

The First Timne, when I was young, a lover left me, I sank into deep withdrawal. I thought of that today, reflecting on how long it took to manage my intake, among other things.

"
 

Cold plaster walls entomb me.

A comatose of snow descends outside

My bones. . . . .riddled with antholes

          .Hollow   Pimples.

                     On calcium

                             white

                             stalks

          That swarm with tickling life.

Cold draft through anthill holes

         through     bones

Whistling right down to the marrow.

Your last pinprick whisper goodbye

   through the receiver holes

   of the old rotary dialtone Phone

     in my heart.........................................receding

     the last grains of morphine.................. receding (a scattering of sand through my heart).

The venom sprawled right into my sheets,

     a nightmare prison of suffocating white

     balloons around my head, tucked under my elbows, and

           finally thrown off the Bed

     to reveal the bare, crippling meat of this paradox:

(kicking legs! screaming knees! squalling stomach! Venom sweat! Lying fly-tongue! Dry meat heart!

Tribal temples...pounding! Broken mirrors of guilt...cutting! different angles across my heart

Frozen, empty lungs....rattling!:

           The chamber where I vent my soul in menthol that doesn't help.

Your gone your gone your gone your gone. And all my loves are gone. And all my dearest friends are

                            gone.

              And half my family's gone.

                                And....and....and)

I hum my prisms into the pillow.

A ganglia of nerves throughout my skin....convulsing in electric jellyfish spasm

I hiccup my legs, shift the folded pockets of air

and huddle       beneath my ratty blanket.

I feel your glacier of finality

Melting through the topology of my brain

Scouring me out of all the

Small channels of brain tissue

   leaving behind a little nub of hollow bone

              the pocket of a skull.

              the huddle of bones

                     on a matress

   where we used to beat our dreams in 2.

© 2012 James William Dyer


Author's Note

James William Dyer
I wrote this earlier today, reflecting on my first break up ever. It was devestating, I let myself slip, I let myself fall into withdrawals, became depressed. It took so long to learn how to handle all those things.....and even now

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Reviews

"A comatose of snow," isn't quite correct. Very good otherwise.

Posted 8 Years Ago


felt the despair in your words... I succumb to the parts of suffocation and the poetic core.

Posted 8 Years Ago


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This is one hell of visceral and marrow chewing poem. ! .

Posted 8 Years Ago


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Pax
wow... always so vividly painful...
amazing poem!

Posted 8 Years Ago


this is so vivid and real, painful and raw. absolutely brilliant James. I did not just read this, your poem had me journey there.

Posted 8 Years Ago


I loved the layout...the brokeness of this poem...reflecting a broken heart I suppose. The angst...the passion....I could feel every word of it.

"A ganglia of nerves throughout my skin....convulsing in electric jellyfish spasm"

oooh...sounds painful.

Posted 8 Years Ago


at first it sounded like a bad trip in real time. your sorrow and despair come through. very eloquent.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Deep irony here James, a poem extruded painfully from your soul in a town called Bliss. Writhing and writing, biting, cutting, sleeping and weeping.... keeping me reading deeper and empathetically into the words carved on the walls of your cavern. A break-up rips your being in twain, when you share and care and then suddenly.... not there. I feel your pain through these words etched desperately on the surface of your aching brain. I feel the emptiness .... hello... hello.... is anyone there?

Posted 8 Years Ago


It's unbelievable, you take me on a journey that is your's alone, all your words are perceptible and smack me in the face to wake the senses. You are a brilliant writer, this one's going in my *favs* too.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Wow. Once again I'm breathless. You are such an amazing writer. Powerful and original imagery, beautiful and disgusting at the same time. The emotion you bring to your words is just spectacular. You have such talent.

Posted 8 Years Ago



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22 Reviews
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Shelved in 1 Library
Added on November 15, 2012
Last Updated on November 15, 2012
Tags: addiction, poverty, seperation, love, hurt, agony, sick, withdrawal, morphine, drugs, pain, loss, grief, dissillusionment, sorrow, mistaken thoughtline

Author

James William Dyer
James William Dyer

Bliss, MI



About
I began writing when I was in the fourth or fifth grade. We were extremely poor and my mother had purchased an old typewriter from a yard sale for me, tired of trying to decipher my mangled handrwitin.. more..

Writing

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