Powder Parallels

By Maladroit

She's like purple poems-
lilac lyrics looping
wisteria woes
into
violent violet

and these things only go from bad
to worsening
so I wring my hands a lot
like I invented worrying

gripping for perception
to soar into focus
reiterate the value
of sorting minus snorting

pursuing pill palaces and powder parallels
have her persistently plummeting
pulsating, pale-
past
my propagated poetry

........oh

I'd rather write her as yellow-
like lemon lyrics looping
golden glory
into
sunflower sentiments

but.....

these things only go from bad
to worsening
so I write of her in hues a lot
like I could conquer worrying

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Published on Friday, August 16, 2013. Filed under: "Non-Fiction" and "Graphic Art"

Comments on "Powder Parallels "

A former member wrote: it feels good to read your poetry. i've read a couple so far and every time it's like eating something satisfying.
A former member wrote: I love the second stanza. That's the story of my life in four lines.
On Friday, August 30, 2013, Poetic-Realm (253) wrote:

I don't care if it isn't but this is totally about me and it makes me all mushy. On a serious note: play with words like you have in this one. It suits you to add these things together in such a way. The closeness of sounds but thebdistance of meaning is the most striking part about this, of course below the meaning. I love your smartz
A former member wrote: Another worthy poem you give to the world. You're the most gifted poet ive read in a long time.
On Thursday, August 22, 2013, Void Vortex (298) wrote:

A deep layered piece. Sounds like a dying man's wishes to his love. LIKE!
On Tuesday, August 20, 2013, Deadlights (28) wrote:

Like V except you used lots of letters instead of just V. Thought I should add that side note :)
On Tuesday, August 20, 2013, Deadlights (28) wrote:

I feel like this is V from V for Vendetta, the structure and words are flawless, beautiful and dark.
On Tuesday, August 20, 2013, Devilish (2633) wrote:

Undeniable skill .. some one of your caliber could stand alone on just one of your gifts. my momma always told me ( a horrid mother she was) that a woman can be beautiful until she opens her mouth. even when only sending soft notes in silence . you make addiction sound so inviting .. where do i sign my soul. fuck me mala..
On Monday, August 19, 2013, dwells (4177) wrote:

Grandma had a wonderful lilac bush growing next to her back porch, still remember it all these years now. This was a wistful piece, wonderfully wrought, and the worrying only bothers those who give a damn, cheers!
On Sunday, August 18, 2013, FadedBlues (2096) wrote:

...pardon me for staring, your serene beauty is overpowering. the nearly-perfect art of you. have you also invented grace?...
On Saturday, August 17, 2013, blue angel (866) wrote:

The purple hues are invigorating and your words are stimulating: A poetry princess you are* Much enjoyed this :)~
On Saturday, August 17, 2013, Deathkitten (571) wrote:

Woah! This is beyond amazing. Well crafted & love the association with hues. "so I wring my hands a lot like I invented worrying gripping for perception to soar into focus reiterate the value of sorting minus snorting pursuing pill palaces and powder parallels have her persistently plummeting pulsating, pale- past" definitely relate to that. Much enjoyed :)
A former member wrote: immaculate and pointedly beautiful in concept and execution. "so I wring my hands a lot like I invented worrying." I feel like your muse's ugly twin. you are a mistress of wordplay. your alliteration and the purpose with which you write is for me a recurring wet dream. i read this in a haze, and my comments feel like smoke signals in a peopleless world. insubstantial. moot. a weak and ignorant plea for you to see.... i wish i could show you what you do to me. i wish i could do the same for you. i want to thrust my heart's weary drugged moon worshipping blood through the wires and give you something to fill your kneading hands... a warmth, my love and devotion for you. i wish, i wish, i wish upon fading stars and my pulled Lancombe-drunk eyelashes with all of my inconsequential being that you will somehow know what a rare stellar poignant beauty you are inside and out. you somehow not only reach me through my snow comas but make me BELIEVE again, make me want to believe. i have daydreamt of your hand in mine and my lips on your temple, of us wandering through forests of malcontent and melancholy and finding arrowheads and fairies and wondering our ways through clouds of stray epiphanies, reaching a peace without words as sisters, lovers, friends. i want to kiss your wrist and make your heart flutter with its fullness. i want to give you flowers and evermores. your words lift my chin and cradle the child in me. i don't know how to thank you... how to give it back. i love you fathomless amounts, bethany. xo
On Saturday, August 17, 2013, xZombie Poptartzx (332) wrote:

This was absolutely breath-taking... I have no words. and that picture is stunning. xoxo