New Poem: “Said Pieces”
May 6th, 2012 by Gabrielle Faust received No Comments »As you might have noticed, I’ve swung full circle to poetry as of late. It comes in waves, I find, and I must admit it feels mighty good! So, cheers and here is another new one…
“Said Pieces”
by Gabrielle Faust
I watch as pieces of
My existence strip slowly
Away from what is said
Substantiated sustenance
For the soul,
The next of kin to
That which only
Those in agony can
Begin to exonerate,
That which weakens
The being with
Wormwood riddled riddles,
Beneath the skin with
Writhing snaking intimations
Of trans-substantiated manifestations,
Weaving snaking rhythmic damnations
I never thought I deserved,
And yet the hellfire and brimstone
This preacher preaches,
Dictates I should burn
For all of the emphatic emphasis
I have placed on yearning
For the dreams my
Simple minded elementary teachers
Taught that I should fill my soul
To the brim with
Such longing, such dreams
That no one and nothing
Should dare to override
Anything I should strive for,
For I was a HUMAN BEING
Above all else,
But those that stretched thin
The truth between the veins
Of heart and soul,
Beating thin the breath that I
Only sought to breath in the
Short soft folds between the
Moments of violence,
Screams and soft cries buried
Between tweed sofa cushions and
Light cigarette smoke trails,
That trail through the mirrored
Memories of my own soft cries
For recognition that recognize only
That I am nothing without my own
Self indignation and loathing and
All of the demons I tried to
Exorcise without the help of any
Deigned deity or dignified member
Of supposed upright and forthright society,
Those I tried in vain to make the Sunday
Saturday brunch friends with,
I never wanted to know the battered fingers
Played out upon the coffee table beside
The overturned bottle and scattered keys,
The slights of unmasked womanhood
Stripped away by the uncertain hands
Of another of the same frayed
Bludgeoned respect
Of bleached guts and glory,
Until I tired vain with
Blue blood veins etched
Cold and solid with
The promises of a
New sunrise I knew
Would never rise
To meet my own expectations.
Tags: existentialism, Gabrielle Faust, philosophy, poem, poetry, writing
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