Thursday, November 29, 2012

Three Poems by Phil Barnes

Unrelated Events
And then my heart was frozen
To the point of non-existent spring
But behind my eyes I bubbled and hissed with passion that both sickened and quickened me
The noise was alarming to passersby, who made wide circles around the pretty thing writhing on the concrete.
A few threw change
And it stacked up around me like a tiny little wall making the separation between us brilliant and more profound.
I tried uselessly to synch the madness growing inside me with the relatively ridiculous chain of unrelated events
Cause you left
Cause she left
Cause he left
Cause I left
Knowing that nothing this perverse could be that simply simple
The Imp
And your face and the silence and the war
because of course there is always a war.
And the wet heat of your chest against my back and the evenness of your breath
because of course you’re always even(which makes our arrangement comical)
And the plain way your love is so free and mine is like spikes sticking through my palms tearing my skin, tearing your skin, tearing…
And the shit grin on my face and the sun and its mocking and the people and their aha’s and your persistence and the fact that day always has to follow night even when you’d rather not and the burning fucking burning fucking burning fucking burning and your face and the peace or the piece and the truth and the unfilled space and the lack of air and the pain and the beating in my head and the loneliness and the charade and the hook and the moment and the need and my lines and she’s gone and I’m tired and its futile and the push and the drive and my twisted insides and the seed and the quiet that isn’t quiet just loud in another way and the weight under which I can barely move.
And your hand on my hair and your soft and timed strokes, careful so as not to rouse the dark imp in me
and me gnawing at my own insides
and of course the war
Around the corner
on a mattress filled with tears and tasteless excuses not to try
lies who I was before you
you see it
smell it even
but act as if it exists not
Who wouldn’t respect you for that?
on these sheets we purchased
we may meet for the first time
wide eyed
speaking nothing of what we know
brandishing our combined filth like if only we had neon
I can’t really see you
but I can hear you just fine
and sometimes
when you and I
have luck on your side
I can feel you
Always feet first
Gingerly requesting so little
You fit into the tiniest space I have ever seen
Feels like I could take you anywhere
what you think
you need
and what you request
will have such a gap between them
that I can build a shelter big enough to hold my woe
And it will go unnoticed
This may be the perfect combination

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