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Hannah Gold Poem
Leave me visible like a vagrant dog in a deluge...
I'll hear your whisper in the wind, embrace your essence
in the rain, and see the secluded skies..
When the rain is subtle I will know that something
has tempered you... But when the rain rages I'll know that
something has imparted panic upon you!
And in this inherited intellect lacking eyes, ears, hands, or lips...
Our limp lumber would enternally rest in Earth's clay.Envision, the squall
streaming through a patch of wildflowers...
In my disorder gardens of myself flourished. Buds of curiosity burgeoning
from my eyes! It would be our knuckles, rigid, prancing pebbles meant for
progienies' play, and the sinful sun weaving it's way through your missing molars!
Countless days go unnoticed and nights unslept... We'll speak with our soul
through breached bones, where our tendons once thrived!
Imagine, your cranium and mine both mitagated to matter. Both refined from our
faults, and our skins going young again, disregarding the reason we ever wrinkled!
A chance to cleanse our aura oncemore... May I bceome dust with you?
My trembling tree...
Copyright © Hannah Gold | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Hannah Gold Poem
Momma always compares me to the trees
She says... I'm tall, thin, and free spirited in the wind
But now I lay before you as a TREMBLING TREE!
Attacked by the axe of ambulance, due to my
decomposing disease. Ligaments languish as fragmented
foilage and organs become tainted tangerines!
As my conscious collides with the wind... Ivy of my illness
binds my tethered trunk, spiders of suicide descend down branches!
Crawling beyond broken bark... cracking my vitiated vision!
As the sun sank into our garden of healthy hilarity.
My withered wood fades into a cloud come with no stellar stars or stealthy skies.
After all these years... where are my pastures of prayer?
Where is my happy ending?!?
I await for the decorum... as the darkness devours me!
Copyright © Hannah Gold | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Hannah Gold Poem
I cry sometimes. Enhancing this deluge of delirium. With a drop which
flows from my face to the flood of Earth’s clay as I inhale this bitter breeze of our garden’s grief! Seeing your withered wood…
I breathe deep… Inhale… Exhale…And hope that these frivolous feelings will bottle up after this bottle is downed!
Words now trapped…it’s a joke…but this is no banter of your basil bush!
This is a garden now growing with grief, which subdues layers of our sacred memories, suppressing sadness and carries on until my rancid lungs collapse… But… I don’t die. I just-carry on. Watching your roots rot…
As this decomposing disease devours your soul!
My soul slowly sinks into the mud. Yearning to find you six-feet-under. Beneath the sublime beauty of our orchids. To the place where
Hades resides... I miss the touch of your hands. The lingering sensation of your waning wood intertwined with my vines.
My fingertips now feel the burn of Hell! I learnt that this burn won’t melt, it just burns, until your whole bodies submerges and turns what they’ll learn and all their concerns into nothing! Because I guess everyone dies… Even if they don't deserve it...well I may have deserved it because I'm depicted as the ideal image of man yet they watch as my green leaves burn brown and… and this ivy poisons my rich roots. But this isn't a cry for help, it’s a letter, poem, or whatever you want to call this…This is my message to you!
Yes, angels are heavenly but even if they’re with me…they can't get inside
my mind and help me flourish in this Hell on Earth. The one you left me in!
So I thank them…but I’ve handled enough forced sympathy. I'd rather be
with some boys and booze and listen to a simple symphony.
There I can cry… myself …and become one with the flood from this deluge of delirium!
Copyright © Hannah Gold | Year Posted 2016
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