An Acute Angle
Between me and the rock's edge,
A moment's beautiful suspension,
Caught between air and earth,
My arms swing like pendulums in honey,
Slowly back and slowly forth,
Does my chest inhale then Ex-.
I am pointed like an old sign,
To the heavens diagonally,
My feet scrape the stony surface,
As I float away so torpid,
There are bulging eyes in my head,
Sending the message to my mind,
And it is recieved.
The edge of my lips twitch,
Rushing wind circles in the ears,
More messages,
The white bottoms of my teeth,
Can be seen through the dusty wind,
My left foot abandons ship,
And slips on stone and flies.
White bone ever more revealed,
The twitch has become a jerk,
And the smile is irresistable,
Pendulums in honey swing,
And the wind exits my ears,
And cools my face,
A fine coat of dust.
The eyes are absorbing the sky,
With such soft purple-orange undulations,
But Time does not wait for it's clients,
A vainglorious grasp at nothingness,
Fingers slipping in the airborne particles,
And the angle is no longer acute,
Between me and the rock's edge.
Comments
dickensonfan
I can't do poetry because I can't stand to abuse phrases to force a rhyme. Here it may be poor advice squeezed out by a sense of obligation to offer comment. Anyway, the lines mugged worst in pursuit of a rhyme were. '...the epicenter to all her pricks...made her core sick...thankfully she wasn't on crack. She stepped back.' My comment would be to throw that rhyme off the balcony and just lead up to 'She stepped back' with whatever prose flows best. We can't all come up with lines like the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune...well, I mean I can't. But you might.
kt6550
IndecentAccident
Other than that, I like it, it's a really strong message that you've gotten across well. I love the moonlit garden simile too. Well done.