Treasure Island

Mary X

(19.01.1987 / London, England)

Corners.


I was never one
to complain about
the incandescent
murmurs in each
slant of this pit.

This slant
marked by a Queen,
a scented spray
tumbling
through the ray
of air and surfacing
as a mark of territory.

This slant
marked by a Shadow,
a solitary
eccentric entwined in
it’s own demands
and complications –
the dead-certain rose.

This slant
marked by an OCD patient,
an obsessive to
an obsessive
violent brute
of a human life.
overpowering urge
whisper that will never
be veiled by
an Elephant-man
mask.

This slant
has yet to be marked
but I’m sure a hissing figure
stuck in a rut
of living,
needing some joy fulfilment
to
stimulate
it’s sexual organs
will traipse
into my time;
use the fact
(that) I
am male
then screw me up
and throw me into
my own nauseating
tomb.


just like


all the
other
wise-men
did.

Submitted: Sunday, September 03, 2006
Edited: Thursday, June 09, 2011

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Comments about this poem (Corners. by Mary X )

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  • Brittany Marsh (9/18/2006 9:20:00 PM)

    This is a very strong well writen poem. you have a way with words. I have a feeling you'd like my poem 'realization' take a look (Report) Reply

  • Joseph Daly (9/10/2006 6:39:00 PM)

    This reads aloud so well. I am surprised that no one else has commented. The flow is fantastic and brings to my mind rap. The the shit that passes today but from harlem, NY, circa 72.

    The attitude of those rappers had direction, as does this fantastically pace poem. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

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