Kings and Queens
A bit of stream of consciousness and surreal poetry
It's grey, then not grey.
Hollowed out by fullness.
Blinding with darkness.
It's a series of contradictions
Wrapped into a black box,
A recording of how it went
From paradise to coffin.
And the coffin is somehow
Riddled with airholes
That leak morning light.
Dark and not dark.
Empty of life and full of it.
.
Hands rain on the surface,
Anger and relief and joy
All bundled into the same
Rhythm, the same beat,
The same wailing breath.
They decorate the wood
With dreams and fears,
Hushed desires unsaid
And fears well spoken.
It's entirely too easy to see
The pattern of here, not here,
Kings and Queens
Crying at the court jester.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.
Ah, also:
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Comments (3)
This reminds me of an interesting painting I've seen before, where a whole royal court is laughing their heads off, enjoying themselves, and the Jester (whose job is to be funny), is deadly serious. I love the contrasting patterns throughout this poem- like a chessboard in its imagery!
I would like to be a neuron in your mind while you write..... This is stunning and so visual in an abstract way.
Empty of life and full of it....ugh, this!