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Blank Stares of Blackened Lovers
By alaskanamber
Every time it happens again,
the tinkle of my broken heart,
echoes like a tinny souvenier ,
bought for a dime at a sleazy coastal gift shop.
Reminiscent of another cheap relationship,
discovered on a street corner,
cemented through an email,
nurtured like a disposable soul.
Waves crashing through my stomach,
shards of glass surrounding my black heart,
all signs of the end of the beginning,
circumspect the beginning of the end.
Liars, cheaters, whores, and players,
we populate this earth from top to bottom,
never satisfied with one drug, one fix,
on to the next lover without a touch of remorse.
Doubt far from our vocabulary,
romance infinitely dispensable,
a condom in a truckers bathroom,
your kiss of flat beer and cheap cologne.
The blackness of this world,
evidenced by the blankness of my stare,
as I fake this game of life,
and the orgasm I never had,
to hear you tell me you love me.
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© 2009 alaskanamber
Comments on "Blank Stares of Blackened Lovers"
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A former member wrote:
Nice. Who hasn't been there?
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A former member wrote:
that set apart stanza at the end...the delayed mention of orgasm...the emotion detached from the body [of the poem] is so allegorical. . . .smartly rendered.
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On Monday, May 11, 2009, ALBATROSS
(197)
wrote:
This is actually pretty sad. But the last 2 stanzas were my favorite and pretty much sealed the tone of the poem. Unfortunately, conquest isn't applicable to this one but it leaves you with an emotion to take away from the poem. Good write though.
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On Monday, May 11, 2009, alaskanamber
(64) wrote:
Amazing how I wrote it thinking one thing and the first thing someones mind goes to reading it is conquest. Just goes to prove my point.
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A former member wrote:
ahhh...conquest. Very nice.
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