Beauty In A Vase (Encased)

These problems i evoke like Manannen

from rituals of tears and in fallow light

to animate my turmoil / sitting in the driver's seat, in park,

listening to Friday night's revellers

youthful yoke of joys

 in drunken laughter / beginning their weekend envoy

unbalanced paces, obtuse with truths

loudly released

into the shoulders of 3 a.m. / after their lubicated,

lightning impediments

with liquor and flirtatious condiments

                squeezed of it's raucous relish & rote,

their own evoking of happier gods;

 

lost inside their own free-lanced ease

while i am losing my own, in the dark / of seudo night,

in park / boxed in,

helplessly weakening with each song

damning me / in my swollen senses

lyrically holding me, unable to move from my sadness...

Morrison's artistic indemnity

shrouding me,

as i am uncontrollably stung & prodded

with his raw poetic melody

relating it to my own biography / oh how this love

is cruel and breath-taking --collected together

a union of Shakepearean uncertainties...

 

in the driver's seat,

burning heart and flooded ducts,

hunched down by a divine comedy : my lamentation,

fused into my idle breath

refused by my own sensations of touch

tho' ache for his eyes on mine,

a bridge between two hells

co-dependant & addicted to the flash

of playful sprites in our bed...

there is beauty here in the cold, numbness of

almost dawn - while flowers still sleep

and buds of dew on petals meet...

divine Manannen how is it  i  continue to weep

 

for i have signed on those dotted lines,

agreed upon this unchained love,

open like a field--entwined orchids / fragile & pretty,

unshielded by hail storms

and above they pray for whatever forgiveness owed

congealing mud below

roots immobilized as rain suspends their blooming,

and critters attracted by sweets

with sharp mouths - steal & partake of this buffet,

forsaken by nature's privy to heal,

then to another with fuller pistols

in honey, thicker

draining then staining

empty stems defeated -- yellowing as  orchid

fades, unmade (by you, Manannen)

now worthiless of any attention...

 

my flowered tragedy / corporeal,

slowly losing sight, encased inside a black bloom of night

 

for i am a bonsai tree, stunted

over-watered and blaming the clouds above

for such fat rain - in my tortured journals

my juxtaposed life - played,

now to return

hymns of double-standards to give

the rest of who i am - away,

in the driver's seat, in park, forsakened,

immobilized like the orchid,

my beauty in a vase...

Author's Note

This was an experiment in flow, rough in spots but does okay. Google Manannen (pronounced Man'eau?)