Inching

Inching

A Poem by Vestigial Appendage
"

A sort of prelude to my poem "Bedlam of Our Bed

"

Tingle of the tip,

Colored of Violence,

Leering with its slit, sightless,

As it inches,

Fumbling through the damp tendrils

Of the polluted ocean.

 

This sea is sweaty and dark with deep waters,

Swirling into a mist of heaving tissue,

No fish dwell there, but the scent lingers,

The waves crash on above this nook,

Fighting with the energy as the hell-hole pushes; as it breathes.

 

Tingle of the tip,

As it inches,

Closer,

And hot air is exhaled; smell of gasoline.

 

I get closer,

Tingling on my tip,

Inching,

Never touching.

© 2011 Vestigial Appendage


Author's Note

Vestigial Appendage
This was a quick work, but it comes straight from the heart.

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Reviews

i felt that inside it was great

Posted 8 Years Ago


Incredible imagery! I love how you associate the ocean, the smells, the brinyness - and I love the use of the word "inching" as though it were a sea creature.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Very nice.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Vivid, expressive and insightful. A great piece.

Posted 9 Years Ago


When I read this poem, it reminds me of suicide. Nice work here...

Posted 9 Years Ago


So lively I can feel your sea, its lingering scent, the hell=hole while I try to inch through. I great write. Keep in writing.

Posted 9 Years Ago


A well-crafted piece. I love your use of words and how you've focused on depicting the story rather then say it outright-ly so. Very intriguing

Posted 9 Years Ago


Thanks for sharing this fine poem. Love it :)

Posted 9 Years Ago



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Added on July 9, 2011
Last Updated on July 9, 2011

Author

Vestigial Appendage
Vestigial Appendage

Vatican City, Romania



About
My art is of that which sways, so gently alive by my hands threads, pleading mercy as the din of release fills and bursts the womb of words. more..

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