brazen

By Feral

..feeling more...
waif than woman these nights, returning to my shore.
Seasonal-held in Cambrian rhythms;
seafoaming at the bite,
rending vocal'd chordata, leaving only
siren screaming, speech stones - more mineral than grey.
becoming

these horses - roaring out of waves, thunder'd beating
and I'm left with a ripple.grey sky
giant eye - she sees nothing and all, save
lost stars in the birthing of galaxies -
spiral: nexus, my lunar plexus.
and the echoes of that same distance -
my elusive sanity, spell'd first {skin}

I outline my body in seaweeds
the salt
will slay the slugs.
I wait for some return.
this mad woman on the shore, Alkan-toned and naked,
bare, emaciated and discovering
twenty five new species of dust.
within nobility of decay & I choose to live, this once,
fungus dressed and nitrogen scrawled to the wind.
tracing spirals in the sand,
tracing vegvisir in the sand,
searching for some compass home
from the beyondside of pain
from this fractured hazy-toned state
where hands pressing through air ripple and breathe.

I look down at my hands, see mad.bark, see fur.
see rough stone, sea glass,
shadows. light. this roaring
non-melody in my underskin river is
leaving me only fang'd survival.
and i continue to wait for the highest tide
for the rush of brine and fog to feel,

and to drown in the event horizon.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
© 2014 Alexis Helms
Published on Tuesday, December 29, 2015.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "brazen"

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  • A former member wrote: i have erased my comment somehow. You are poet, in every meaning of the word. The art is a form and you have metamorphed into it. i am home here on your alien world, where sand is part of the soul, where 'alone' is blessed and cherished and where nothing needs to be said, only felt. How lucky that we have words here on Earth to express this.

  • Poetic-Realm On Wednesday, January 9, 2013, Poetic-Realm (258)By person wrote:

    This took me deep into all that is the scarlet you... I felt the animal in your bite and the woman in your whisper. I tried to claspe onto beautiful images to save me from the summit and downfall. There is rough pain skimming through your veins and you don't handle it tenderly. You take heed in it's independent mind-giving soulfulness but you yearn for the others who would cut your hair and tie bells amongst your strands. Sending them into the bonfire during the rain dance of your body. Exquisite images following me here. If there was ever a poem of nautical fire and dried waterfalls spitting lessons to the one who begs for the lonesome intelligence and unreal visions of love this would be it. At least this is how I see it. Maybe I am just not diving deep enough....

  • A former member wrote: Beautiful wordings filled my brains while reading this piece, very well penned, great imagery and depth.

  • Maladroit On Friday, August 10, 2012, Maladroit (202)By person wrote:

    This reminds me of a print I keep by my bed. "Pacifica and Unicorns" by Albert Seidl (google image it) I swear you have that same print beside you or you are the woman he painted.. Because this must be all she is thinking..

  • Feral On Saturday, August 11, 2012, Feral (87)By person wrote:

    I was only able to find one, small example of this print... I did not have it before, but I do now, printed on a 4x6. Thank you muchly, Mal.

  • FadedBlues On Friday, August 10, 2012, FadedBlues (2172)By person wrote:

    ...fightening, but alluring. magnificent in its desolation...

  • A former member wrote: Ddiscovering twenty five new species of dust. Heart, heart. Love this write

  • dwells On Friday, August 10, 2012, dwells (4288)By person wrote:

    Giving oneself up to the sea from which we sprang, marvelous!

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