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Submitted on
July 22, 2004
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12 (who?)
The street
is more naked than me.

The buildings are not all in shards.
They're like fingers or Babel, as tall
as the day they were born.  I can speak and I wish
to- these toes
are not mine, mine are smoother not covered in thorn.

Earth.  Where is the earth on my feet, where's the
filth where the weeds, taken hold, grow
tenaciously up to the sky.
Cracking pavement.

So coarse and so hard and so gray.
And I am so pink and so mottled with what
could not in conception be dirt.  Could be grease
or be ashes.  And with gravel grained in
to my soles.

Only the bareness and clutter around me, there once was a time
when our homes carried us in their backs.
They would leak sometimes liquor
that the cat of the neighbor would drink.
And would suffer.  It was never the liquor you drink.

Where are the voices that called out
Old Goat at each other next door?

Where are the voices that would not speak Four because Four spoke too harshly meant Die?

The Sun is not fallen the Moon is not taken and dragons don't live in the North.  But where is
the Sun or the Moon, I've not seen them,
and whatever happened to Blue?
Babel climbed high to the white of the sky, to the black and the blue and the stars.
But here there's no sky but there's grey.

There's no scraps.
You would think there'd be something,
a cherry or something to eat.
Or a rat or a roach.  I remember a time
it was novel to eat little frogs.
It was daring to bite even fried
something lowly like frogs.

The buildings so high and so straight.
The gutters all cluttered with what people dropped as they went and with tin
and with glass and with tires
for fires to warm me at night.  The city so naked
I've not seen a night since the last time I saw
honest light.

I remember a time that I thought
that the pelts that I put on my skin
which were thin pelts would have to be coloured
just so.  Would have to be framed so that
others could see what was sex-like on me,
what was art.

I remember a time that the words on my tongue
had to flow very clearly for others to know
what I spoke.  With my speaking so garbled and low
even those of my tongue could not know
what I spoke.

A time when that mattered, the cities
weren't naked, my body
was shrouded, there were others to hear
what I spoke.
This is either science-fiction or surrealism, depending on how seriously you take things.
Add a Comment:
Krystal-Leigh Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2006   Writer
I love it, you honestly possess such great talent that I wish upon what stars may speak that one day I shall have such talent. This flows beautifully and really makes people think, your writing is truly amazing. Congratulations.
chuuko Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2005
I dig where you put line breaks, very effective. Except that sometimes you put a period and not a line break, I always thought they made the same kind of pause. Example:

could not in conception be dirt. Could be grease
or be ashes. And with gravel grained in
to my soles.

Would that be said aloud the same as

could not in conception be dirt.
Could be grease
or be ashes.
And with gravel grained in
to my soles.

mngamojemo Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2005
A line break calls for a slightly longer pause than a period.

merssong Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2005
great imagry here, my only advice would be to play around with your punctuation. You can say a lot about the emotion of the speaker by adding and exclamation point here and there.
mngamojemo Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2005
Thanks, but a blank and emotionless feel actually serves my purpose much better.
mrcool256 Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2005
Wow, I really was able to lose myself in this one... I had pictures and thoughts running through my head while I read this. This is for sure one of your best poems I have read.
EmilyStrange21 Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2005
I'm sorry that I can't be as helpful as some listed in the comments. I just simply like this too much. As someone said, it really does sound professional. I do think that you were a tad repititive in some parts, but not enough to copy/paste them down and point them out (unless you want me to, but it's basically the same as what *ArmorFelix2001 said). I couldn't find any flaws. I couldn't find any lines that disinterested me. This is a very impressive poem. ;)
so-pretty-when-I-cry Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2005
you know what.. i think i've read this poem before.. i wonder were you ever in the poetryplease or share poetry chat rooms? I really like it, this is one of my favorite styles of poetry, your language is amazing and the tone of wisdom is astounding !

good work :clap:
mngamojemo Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2005
Thank you. I've only been in poetryplease once, at about two in the morning, so I don't think you read it there.
krazykel Featured By Owner Jul 18, 2005  Hobbyist General Artist
I cannot crit this becaus ei think it is indeed very well writen fantastic bit of poetry you have put some effort into this i think. English not being your native launguage as well i just have to say
:wow: i love this
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