Portfolio - saintedmad

Random artist: soror sainted

A slackjaw

saintedmad
saintedmad 27 Mar 2017 Tag: mojo 3 comments, leave your own..

.. 
the man with no hunger
and some sunday girl without meat; 
standing.
still. 

on the edge of a sinking front stoop,
soaping bodies.
collections.
she is bound for dead.
her hair a grey bruise.
all the other voices are only god leaving her behind.

she should be baptized at least. 
i'd be easier to love if i were anything else,
but the way i say things makes me sound as if 
pretty doesn't fit me most mournings; the mess i made
stretched over my face, making me scream, and i knew...
i knew.
you were.
listening.


the night: is sweating.
he buries her

             between the trees, so she can hold on.

and of course, she wants beautiful.
of course, she needs beautiful.

concentrate. 
the skinny way of love: caves her stomach,
the thick hands rage: cut bones from hearts.
the sound of cotton kills her with the sway of nude oaks.

they play slow at snakes making shadows. . . .
her burning bush, and he tries to hush the legions 
of words skipping, just like a girl, from her mouth. 
be quiet. be quiet. be quiet.
you want me so brilliantly cold.

               she::: is 
there anything to eat? of love? left
over from the last supper? he wipes the knife
clean.

she is shaped like fog in his head.
i think there is a picture of me under your tongue
blessed be the name, the rural leaves that will cover her.

maybe he doesn't remember how.
maybe he cannot refuse her.
maybe the way her breath is so so close. ...
he could stab himself into the nextlife for that:
kissable pain.

the frame of them both is slackjaw 
.
maybe she could save him if she dies

but if she could save just one thing,
it would be the clouds he culls.


















Words: 305 / Updated: 30 Mar 2017 / © Copyright

Liked this poem?

Subscribe to my Poetry Feed or Link to this poem!
Share saintedmad's poem with your friends..

1 Recent Comments

Posted (3)
User Image
COMMENTS:
269
ButcherBelial 2 months, 2 weeks ago New Comment

These words are lean but plentiful and there's a tender but muscular poetic will in your mojo. This is a great one to have on the front page for a long time. Your work is very filling, very satisfying. Carve this one in.

User Image
COMMENTS:
198
After_hours 4 months, 3 days ago New Comment

Much better[for mine].. Not unlike the way certain films can effect the mind, linger there-after. When i read this, it runs foreign in my narrow/lacking brain. Tis not from this land, this season, nor this mental culture that has become of us...Intrigues me, makes me want to observe & watch those that still 'feel'..'love' the way a lady and gentleman once did. Can't help but feel the black & white of yesterday. *And on a lighter note, the title.. since when have you been slack of jaw, pshh! ..get me some earmuffs.. Good job, woman.

User Image
COMMENTS:
67
Asomatous 4 months, 3 weeks ago New Comment

At thirteen I decided to starve myself because i was convinced that I was too fat. I ate next to nothing that entire summer and never lost a pound, which devastated me. My whole life I was convinced I was fat but I wasn't. It's such a vicious cycle. But this isn't only about that. This is about a delicately broken soul, dying with each breath yet giving her last breaths for another who misses the most sensitive part of her completely. No one can save her but herself. This moved me so.

Login or Signup Members | Artists to post a comment

Would you like to comment?

Join ink-circus.net for a free account, or Login if you are already a member.