Portage to a dream

Portage to a dream

A Poem by Perdition

But for the ends of our last night’s abstract ,

the sorrowful sails bearing to port

the reasons that spark our darkened universe

wherever we meet them…

 

but for the train setting its own tribunal come dawn

the beds that go unmade

swelling within our side

unveiled corpses at bay

air and light like a miner's

deep inside our wombs

 

how slow this world is failed

how silent it will drift

statues from a lost empire

and the home-again path laid true

every weight becomes a commodity released

every moment a passerby,

 

a portage to a dream, an almost try

and the cliff that calls within

 

bodies unnourished, unfilled, untouched and dry

as we stack in the dark quiet cupboards

swirling into gray

joined from the hinges 

unspoken 

joined in last sobriety

insane

to never try these glorious anxieties again,

waiting to become another flower outside the hills

 

healing our opened scars

a taste of wine as the world drifts us by

the ships that sip their own

the small fires feathering against our lips

pounding the good earth round

like the sound of an innocent worm

screaming from the belly of a crow

© 2019 Perdition


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I read this in the morning, but didn't have the chance to review it until now.

I believe what it means to be drunk, what a glass of Wine truly means are lied finely there, up on Your page~ there is more between the lines, there is something bigger, a bigger truth, I kept imagining the old sailors gathering at the bar, their thirst to the Wine, same as their thirst to the Sea, that Sea, their real world where no other human than them understand, and know what it really feels to be in a different world... a world of dreams, that world which they enter by the first wind drifting the sails, same, by the first sip from their glasses. those two lines fell into my mind strongly,

"how slow this world is failed
how silent it will drift"

they hold sadness for this world which it seems it will take ages for it to "wake up" into a better one, and in this journey, how many pass by silently and forgotten... will they be remembered, how many are there, were there, and will be there... emotional and profound write for me.

Posted 2 Weeks Ago


Perdition

2 Weeks Ago

Well don't wait for it to wake up anytime soon Light..so chase that wind and live the future in you.. read more
Light

2 Weeks Ago

sorry that I haven't read them before, but just went to search about them both, I know of "Moby Dick.. read more
So many parts to this almost endless write.. so many avenues taken to show how it is.. how you think and feel. We need what's ever present, we need the all around, not merely what pleases us. Drifting displays truth, moored up we see and feel only sameness. Perhaps?

Some glorious phrasing, ' a taste of wine as the world drifts us by - the ships that sip their own - the small fires feathering against our lips .. '

Posted 1 Month Ago


emmajoy

1 Month Ago

Is there a bleeding average? Still searching. :)
Perdition

1 Month Ago

Not part of the revolution yet? I could have sworn I saw you at the meetings ;) Thanks again.
emmajoy

1 Month Ago

Didn't know I could fly so far.. thought is was my imagination!

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Added on October 18, 2019
Last Updated on October 18, 2019

Author

Perdition
Perdition

Sometimes, VA



About
Writing is a way for me to transcend the edges around the edges of transcendence; if you catch my drift. Thank you for your wonderful reviews and please forgive me if I sometimes fail to do the same... more..

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