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RAVAGEREINXZ
the nights were hard chrome
and the hunger pressed in the middle
third finger on a trigger
lost drenched
alone
scouting coins from the
mouths of phones
sleeping neath the
bridges
cement rivers
where the wind was
always blowing
birth of a vampire
mother of a wolf
no ordinary hex
in the common
and perplexed
scars like the work
of lovers clawing
to carry the burden
of dark
glowing soft these
trenchs of flesh
in the safe moonlight
where her wings were
lost
platinum and dirty
she was twenty
pushing thirty
climbing fences
boosting cars
spiking heroin
gone too far
packsacks
and sneakers
never card
her at the bars
one of them
the tossed
and borrowed
a ghost to fear
of the Lost
Tomorrows
gunned down her
father in a family
fight
saved her mother
but she lost her
life
invisible
invincible
crucible
of hell
the grey
eyes
back up
most
the word
was she
cast spellz
washed her
shirt in tears
for the love
of a man
the one she
sought
a hero
the myth
a plan
...
Comments
Sparrow
Mon, 2015-08-24 04:10
Steve
A sad story but so true of many in these days of electronics, where to see much past a blurred screen would mean a person getting off their asses and seeing the world of reality.
I wonder where we are going that we have people clinging to road bridges and savaging from bins the time expired food of waste.
Great write there,
Yours, Ian..
.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti
Lonnie
Tue, 2015-08-25 16:18
Stephen
If I am not mistaken, this is about homelessness and street people. It is very moving and touches the soul intensely. Having been homeless myself, I know the feelings well. Beautiful work, my friend!
Esker
Tue, 2015-08-25 16:52
I live in the well of the soul....
the hurricane about of life..
but the eye is life..the centre
setting in writing is important
how one becomes to that level
or place...is another..
a crash....this is a dramatic poem
the character survives
giving her freedom by the reduction
of father..
the electra complex
voilent families....etc..
so much.....Im typibng without glasses
forgive the errors.
like life today things are blurry..
ghosts and deomons...someetimes the
very thing inside us that the ego provides
in order to remain sane and survive
not about morality
because there is more then just
morality
people will always rip away the very thing
of lightness of being from surviviors
knwoing their weaknesses...
the power and control issues
we live under metaphors with other
mythological representations of
others on teh street level
i did it for a very short duration
but got along well...
shelters....scott mission breakfests
even though it was for men
humility and pride to ask
and accept rejection...
they gave her a meal
an exception
one must lead with the roper
humpitily
and strngth
giving..
more then just taking..
we all survivied this far
and like our poertry
as it grows something
sometimes feel homeless
poetry orphans
thank U