Dying Within
More
Follow through, over head the cast of the wind.
Running into the change of the seasons.
Wailing in the high tide looking at the wide eyed sky.
Emotions pulse while standing numb.
Thanking all of you while my knees are on the floor.
My heart taken in rapture.
Carved in the glass of living words.
Visceral in taste of all that was captured.
The awakened morning glory
Another sunset with a masked story.
Curious night air sensation wraps the mist.
Stairs apart, time separating engima,
Where we will breakaway from more.
Caffeine Rejection
Caffeine Rejection
by Liz Singer
Your bitter taste lingers,
irritating my tongue with your
lack of flavor and inability
to correct my narcolepsy.
You temporarily bring awakening
as you pour into my mouth
but refuse to quench my thirst.
Instilling artificial awareness,
you make my thoughts bounce
like ping pong balls in my brain.
Like any other drug, you leave me empty,
always wanting more, stranded
between awake and unconscious.
As I swallow your final sip,
I’m thrust into withdrawal.
My heart beats fast
as you surge through my veins,
but just as your addictive high
kicks in, I finally decide: I quit.
Handful of Sand
Here I am enroute to certainty,
Playing with the time and my dignity,
Too good to be true, but more or less the fact,
Chain reaction inside; trying to be intact.
Common man’s alike, as are his woes,
Just like the budget his expectation grows,
Expectations are multi-dimensional; they shouldn’t be own,
Can’t be met; always on a sojourn.
Once mortal; and poverty I have seen,
People here have no idea of what does “food” mean,
Betrayal is common; divinity is rare,
It’s a house of screams; “silence” no body can hear.
Here I am enroute to be diseased,
People here are dead dummies, eternal soul’s released,
Relations commercialized; market value has increased,
The fact is “illusion”, ideologies have been freezed.
If you still want a shade, still want your stake,
Cool off your heels and give yourself a brake,
Coz it will never happen, your thoughts are under shackles,
Doctored scenario is keeping an eye, expect no miracles,
Bow down, be on the knees, don’t you dare stand,
The fact is well equipped and all you have is…………………..”Handful Of Sand”.
A Literature Discussion, Or, A Classic Slaughter
A Literature Discussion, Or, A Classic Slaughter
By Liz Singer
shredding sentences,
mulching metaphors,
destroying diction.
critics dig fangs
into flowery prose
and tear it to shreds
of deeper garbage.
letters kidnapped from words
& commas tossed carelessly
into a pile of lecherous insight.
can’t we just allow it to be
whatever it is
that it is?
can’t I just soak in literature
through my eyes
and let it trickle
down my veins?
and circulate back to my cheeks
so I blush with elation
at the wonder of language,
of untouched, pure
pages of wisdom?
analysis destroys the beauty
of what is naturally perfect.
Your Mouth Forms an O and Swallows My Fears
Your Mouth Forms an O and Swallows My Fears
By Liz Singer
“Anyone who has ever been to a perfect rock show by their favorite band in a small venue can testify to the [way] that
energy washes up onstage from the crowd
and is
radiated back out again from the performers,
to the way that it becomes less about an artist and an audience and it becomes entirely about
a singular unrepeatable shared moment
between a group of people.” – Will Sheff, lead singer and guitarist of Okkervil River
Your legs are music notes
flying on stage.
Shoulders hunch
and nails stroke
the notes, your guitar
floating through chords
as rhythmically as feet
twist and shift.
Your arms convulse
as bittersweet melodies
buzz through cement.
From my broken seat,
I convulse along,
the range of your voice
dancing into my ears
and tickling the lobes.
Blessed spit creates
static on the mic,
the condensation
baptizing the crowd.
Lyrics more calming
than Holy Communion
slide onto my tongue
as I interlace and release
my fingers to the beat
of your healing words.
The performance of your body
folding and contorting
soothes my soul;
answers pop out of notes
strung together by swinging limbs
and expanding mouth.
My lungs fill with euphoria;
my head sways –
hypnotized, unafraid.
