Rapids
A quick poem on different forms of writing.
Poetry
Demands that I spit on the page and describe dark eyes as something
With all the likeness of a black hole, not oil, because there is no light.
There is no sheen, no glitter, just unfathomable lightlessness.
While a simple, unobtrusive little
Story
Will demand that I forget the elegance and inhale suffering instead.
It demands that I avoid the description in favor of something else.
What good is a man's likeness to a so-full-it's-empty gravity pit
When I could be stabbing him through the center with his
Failures.
The novel demands that I look at both, that I dissolve his being,
Shred him until he cannot move and then drag his corpse
To an imaginary finish line and take a nice ride
In the whitewater rapids of his cool, crisp
Tears.
About the Creator
Silver Serpent Books
Writer. Interested in all the rocks people have forgotten to turn over. There are whole worlds under there, you know. Dark ones too, even better.
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Comments (5)
I loved the idea of how writers explore the same idea in so many different ways. So much to appreciate in this one :)
A refreshing "well-wrought" ride for the mind; loved it as well!
Love the progression you established with the various writing forms while still exploring the same disdain! A great piece, Silver!
Rapids are rapid, nice.
Thought-provoking piece! Some write about pain and others write about joy.