Merzbau
it's just a ride.
- 1,166
- Posts
- 21
- Years
- Age 34
- Universe A
- Seen May 13, 2012
I used to have a thread or three around here when I was younger, but I think my skills have evolved a bit since then. That's the hope, at least. :) Here's one of my favorite poems I've written lately - it was based loosely on a dream I had, while getting over a friend's death - he's heavily featured in this.
intrusions
Stranded in a white boat on a sea of ink,
with a rocking lullaby of black waves,
I was contemplating, contemplating.
The seas parted and a mighty white horn protruded,
a great pale seabeast rising.
He thrashed in the waves,
water rushing from his falls.
In the maelstrom, he went for the hit,
down, down, jagged up,
smash!
The great horn impaled my little ship,
and water gushed through the hull.
We both struggled,
as the beast caught his horn in the stern,
and I clung for life.
The beast broke free
and vacated,
my ship broken.
I clung to its pieces.
The lighthouse spun frantically, light turned black.
Stillness was upon me.
In this monochrome world,
I was a floating intrusion of color.
There was another boat on the Inky Sea,
a chocolate-colored rowboat with oars.
At the helm, a little lamp
illuminated a captain with a golden set of eyes,
that glimmered brighter than the chalky sky.
"O captain, my captain!" I announced,
and he brought me onto his deck.
In the yellow light, I noticed a wound.
Gaping flesh hung, scarlet liquid,
metal slugs embedded in his muscle.
A familiar gash,
a dear friend's gash,
fatal.
He lifted me up,
my hand in his, with the first
glimpse of land
of any night
all this long year.
Stranded in a white boat on a sea of ink,
with a rocking lullaby of black waves,
I was contemplating, contemplating.
The seas parted and a mighty white horn protruded,
a great pale seabeast rising.
He thrashed in the waves,
water rushing from his falls.
In the maelstrom, he went for the hit,
down, down, jagged up,
smash!
The great horn impaled my little ship,
and water gushed through the hull.
We both struggled,
as the beast caught his horn in the stern,
and I clung for life.
The beast broke free
and vacated,
my ship broken.
I clung to its pieces.
The lighthouse spun frantically, light turned black.
Stillness was upon me.
In this monochrome world,
I was a floating intrusion of color.
There was another boat on the Inky Sea,
a chocolate-colored rowboat with oars.
At the helm, a little lamp
illuminated a captain with a golden set of eyes,
that glimmered brighter than the chalky sky.
"O captain, my captain!" I announced,
and he brought me onto his deck.
In the yellow light, I noticed a wound.
Gaping flesh hung, scarlet liquid,
metal slugs embedded in his muscle.
A familiar gash,
a dear friend's gash,
fatal.
He lifted me up,
my hand in his, with the first
glimpse of land
of any night
all this long year.
