Mandolyn ...


you are the dream written in books


it's not your smile, self-taught tongue
or the wrath you built a raft for
and pushed it out to sea
that keeps me tapping on the window-

it's the wonder i'm happily trapped inside
the thrill of losing the key...

let the warmth of your field feed me.
i need to be chained to freedom, away from charcoal eyes
that bring me dust for dinner and poison time
hanging from every shadow-

the stones i carried found a way out of
my back pocket, as soon as you took my hand
and carried my fright to a fountain;

the mirror is gone and the wall is air brushed
centered in color;
a lightweight cloud found my flesh, spoke to cracked pores
and settled the scars
ending the war in my Spirit-

you wrung the sun out for me
and now i bathe in honeyed streaks of light-

Submitted: Saturday, August 02, 2014
Edited: Friday, November 28, 2014

Topic of this poem: love


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  • Bronze Star - 5,680 Points Daniel Brick (8/2/2014 10:35:00 PM)

    This poem passes the WOW test - I think that's Marie Shine's term - I have put a lot of study into French Surrealism with its many great poets, Paul Eluard, Robert Desnos, Rene Char, et alia but that dosn't mean I can write a surrealist poem, I can't, my mind gets in the way. But I can recognize true surrealism in poetry! And this poem is truly a surrealist inspiration and handled with that balance of seriousnes and humor which highlights the really good surrealist poems. (Report) Reply

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