Urban Edge
Undone metaphors of debaucherous rhyme
Haute-Couture moralities and titillating times
Of Blood-red loves dying in wordless mime
Burning silent, Staining deep...
Enveloped by electronic emotion
Tissue, thought and sensations
Our infallible Metropolitan machination
Cutting silent, Running deep...
Lies of secular salvation
Lives of spectacular starvation
Stripped to skin in our television sleep
Staining silent, Burning deep...
Urban hope bursting at its seams
Bright blue laser beams and sexual screams
A frantic solution to our Cosmopolitan dreams
Running silent, Cutting way too deep.
8 comments:
Welcome back :) At least one of us is still blogging :)
Reminds me of Violent Pornography.
Oh well....
damn.
this is really good.
cutting deep, yes, but not so deep...not yet.
the way u write, its so violent, so graphic... u manage to evoke images that are at once real and hazed... ur poems always leave an impression on me, whose memory lingers, n catches me off guard, when i encounter situations, ppl, who seem... so distanct and disconnected from all that u write, but still, there's some similarity...
i still remember
"black is she who breathed life into a void so sour..."
yeah... u create magic with words... its surreal, yet, its effect, almost tangible..!
It cuts deep but the wopunds miraculously heal.
I wonder what it'll be like when that stops happening and ur just left raw...forever...an open gushing wound that never heals.
I wonder if that will save us or destroy us.
Kudos.
→ Shadow: Too many things at the back of my head. One fine day, it just came up front. :)
→ Wabby: Anna, everything reminds you of Violent Pornography. :P
→ NS: :)
→ Reema: You might be beyond all this. :)
→ Anon: Thanks a lot. How about a name in the future? :)
→ Prude: I think we're too metropolitan to even realize the presence of wounds, much less acknowledge our indifference towards what would happen to us.
television sleep! what words! and how powerful...
yes way too deep, some wounds never heal and some we dont let.
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