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The Moment After

You had asked me a question
within seconds my aorta had burst
The alarms blared, as my reality attacked
My judgment gone, I prepared my defenses
The truth in my purpose had just been revealed
I realized quickly
That you were forever in my frame
With every wink or blink I took, you were still there
As if I were an old camera,
You were burned into my lens
So that every picture I took
Would be blessed or cursed
With a transparent you
And every time I analyzed
I realized the truth
I recall the day we met, in January
A cold wind blew
Ignored by my defenses  
resulting in mountain ranges appearing across my arm
And everywhere
Like a picked dandelion she walked in
Never wished upon, fluttering past
Guided by purity and light
Led quietly and carefully through the absence
My brain shutdown as I spoke
Hoping to assist, to help you
But the only motive I had
Was to talk
To you
To soak up every second of that moment
Blinded, I was ignorant
Without my knowledge
That moment and all following
Subconsciously instigated a change in me
I saw myself somewhere lost
As I began to give up
Allowing my head, submerged,
And lungs to fill up with water
My vision glimpsed a raft in which you were upon
However so, the current was mighty, I almost Succumbed
But with prayer and hope
I relaxed, laying my head back, I stayed afloat
Waiting for another sign, but so far, I have seen Just water
So at this time, death seemed so sweet
Until the realization dawned on me
Of why I should even be
Yes life is hard, but you exist, therefore
I should live
The softest skin to have ever grazed my own
A smile so beautiful, it makes flowers begin to weep
Unable to explain the power of your gaze
When ever you are near, I feel
As if i took a dozen pills of ecstasy
And as i overdose on your beauty
I see my life pass before my eyes
Only scenes in which I needed in order to decide
Whether or not I should fight to stay alive
I saw you clearly in my mind, my miraculous reality
I smelt you faintly and heard your voice, reversing my fatality
The attainment of a purpose
Gave me a second chance
Now that I have gazed into the eyes of god
And am back to tell the tale
I peer into yours and see that he does not compare
For how can God be real if I am staring at true perfection
Or maybe she was created to be our heavenly connection
Gods greatest gift to humanity since his own son's resurrection
Perfection is rare, but she is the example
An innocent soul
Hidden and lost in a sea of scoundrels
The moment my eyes wandered into her gaze
I felt it
She was a lightning rod for beauty
absorbing all the world had to offer
And I the ground
channeling it through the rivers of my heart
I was not expecting
for beauty, love, and joy
to be lethal
over whelmed by high doses of toxicity
brimming with blissful euphoria  
I take solace in
the moment we first began to coexist,
and forever indebted  
to each moment that follows

17 Dec 14

Rated 10 (10) by 2 users.
Active (2):
Inactive (0): 10, 10

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bodies cum and go
and so does "special love"

there is a love
that never departs
not even if there
are bed farts

seek and you'll never find
open up, it will blind
forever smiling with your white cane
you will spread the fire
candle to candle
 — unknown

Too many beats, maybe youbsaid lots...

You died tho?! Or survived?! Or died for a few momentos?!

Yoi got to splain' it better
 — 13fatstacks

Okay the way I see this piece is you have a lot to say..it could be downsized a bit and more concrete images and the very first couple of lines my heart skipped a beat that is very cliché in a first love poem sort of way use maybe my heart skipped on a razor edge or my heart was a skipping record, but if you can take out heart all together that would be better cause the use of heart unless your referring medically it is very cliché too..  The part I like the most is the metaphor of an old camera, "burned into my lens" this is interesting...  This could also use a lot less telling and more showing us through imagery or images such as softest skin show me softest skin is it like an orchid petal or melting wax between your fingertips...  Show us don't tell us..  and also tell us something we don't already know about love.. not something we do know make it weird and bizarre and exciting..
 — brother_sun

I gave you a 9 for starters cause I believe in positive reinforcement.. but ill come back and give you a ten if you freshen it up a bit..
 — brother_sun

ooh yea and read read read writing is 80 to 90 percent reading read some poetry of great contemporary and modern poetry like for love poems read ee Cummings and Pablo Neruda.. Neruda has some great love poems.. and also Lorca.. google some of them and see what you come up with.. the more you read the better off at finding cliché phrases and over used words you will be..i will put this on my favorites for a while so I can track it and see if I can help you any further with it...
 — brother_sun

what i liked in this:
life is hard, but you exist
therefore i should live

(that would also make a great ending)

i would clean up the wording in some lines. maybe even delete a few stanzas.
as i was reading this i came up with my own version, but i won't bother you with
typing it all out.
it's your poem and i don't want to re-write it for you. plus, i'm foggy this morning
so what i just came up with is probably utter crap. :)
 — mandolyn

 — kripto

I like aorta better than heart...its coming along nicely..  You might want to try some alteration too if you get chance..to make it more pleasing to the ear.. just some thoughts..
 — brother_sun

It's way too dense.  Too much.  Too much telling.  Too much ranting.  Too much melancholy.  Too much purporting.  Too much whimsy.  Too pansy.  Too reverent.  

too much, much too, much
much too

Honestly, by the time I got through the third stanza I felt as though I was half asleep sitting at a kitchen table eating a bowl of stale cheerios with water because the milk curdled.  Reads a lot like the healthy heart sponsored sports/athlete marketing they plaster across the back of the cereal box.

Nothing to fret over though. There's plenty to take and write about here.  Just need to ditch all the nonsense and sentimentality that the narrator clings to, as it does nothing but drag it down.

It stands as a better skeleton text for erasure than it does a poem.

"Real as reality?"  
"Sir... Sir..."
"Who the fuck wants reality anyway?"
"Sir, everyone... Sir, everyone..."  
"Even reality today is not reality."  
"Sir... Sir"
"It's only real when your face gets ripped off."
"Sir... everyone has left.  Sir... Sir."
"It's only real when your choking on  the bile of your ancestors."
"Sir... you need to leave.  Sir, please wake up."
"It's only real when you're asleep."
"Sir.  Please wake up. Sir"
"It's only real when the paddles are strapped to the side of your forehead."
"Sir... Sir... Sir.  Everyone.  Sir. Wake up!"


subclavian, pulmonary, ventricle, atrium, vena cava, aorta
i want to break your heart in like a catcher’s mitt
 — OldShoe

some more edit
 — kripto

Her face is meant to be seen by other you sucker.
But maybe, she will get old one day.
You owe me! Cook my shit up now!
 — unknown