the public vampire 18
Posted by sarahsmiles on February 17th, 2008 filed in poetryComment now »
The whole notion
of being a stripper
has never appealed to me.
Though I’m very happy that people
want to take their clothes off in public
for either praise or ridicule,
I wonder at either the desire
for acceptance or the need for exposure.
A vampire is not that
which needs cry for position
if it still seek to adhere to the name.
It is not an option or a lifestyle choice,
is it? It is a sombre and reflective state
of being that looks on the abyss
and is dismayed. To Jerry Springer one’s self
seems antithetical,
and I could imagine it easier to confess
and placate the monotheistic god
than to self-dissect before the world
on people magazine’s pages.
Poems 15-17
Posted by sarahsmiles on February 12th, 2008 filed in photosComment now »
Pity the lost thrall
Pathological individualism:
the cult, the apogee of culture.
Being as mono-maniacal
mythology, ultimate mono-crop
ripe for culling. Bulldozed
social hierarchy of quality.
Fettered and fetishized each
sovereign in a room
all alone.
Choice without purpose.
Gare de lyon
Waiting.
Waiting is divine
relief. The train
that has not come.
The cab that brought
me here. Time to kill
as an infinite respite
from doing, or being.
Identity foregone
in the silence. Being nothing,
no one. Past and future erased,
melded with everyone in mass
transit. We are a species
of our own locked in our own
separate world, between here
and there, leaving and arriving,
apart from all others who are
just where they are.
it is a silent world,
sounds without meaning
where each disembodied voice
merely announces possibilities
to move into another state
of waiting somewhere along
the timeless continuum
of being nowhere,
yet.
Faces in the station
Composed and silent watching,
conversations on topics of
movement, schedules and delay,
embarkation and arrival. Short term
thoughts. Immediate intentions.
Transient desires infuse the station
with flickering candle light,
illuminating nothing but the passing
of myriad souls for charon to ferry away.
Poems 13 and 14 of 2008
Posted by sarahsmiles on February 11th, 2008 filed in poetryComment now »
13 Transit
There is no illusion like today:
hands folded unquestioning,
face composed and serene,
eyes front, aware without expectation
or appearance of concern.
Back straight. Knees together. A novice
model of contemplative patience,
unhurried and unconcerned.
Amid the maelstrom,
good waves and ill,
that swirl vapors
of conflicting desires
and indecisions of possibilities,
the social hegemonies that battle
on all fronts seeking to over whelm.
And yet, when they depart,
the figure remains without
apparent perturbations
as the light of another day
transits the heavens
and leaves for night.
14 Knowability
There is no confusion like the night:
arms twist with golden turns
as jeweled fingers gesticulate
unspeakable stories, promising
horrors of delight and unattainable sorrow.
Shoulders bathed in sweat, breasts glow
and heave under a midnight chemise
as the air is cleaved and swept by long curls
of ebony hair that reflect aught but the moon
and starlight as they while in serpentine frenzies.
Eyes dart as vipers strike–freeze, observe, pause
and strike certain death or uncertain oblivion,
charting existence, mocking or praising
with equal abandon and delight.
Frozen lips never speak, as nothing
can ever be known
again.