Fourth of JuLIE

2 Comments

Poem Commentary

This is a rather anarchistic take on societal festivities. I am sure those who read this piece are already aware of my antipathy for government ruling and societal norms in general. Philosophy feeds the disappointment I feel toward the world overall. Dysfunction will always be functionally acceptable, and there is no way to solve the immoral hymn that everybody salivates to with such blatant indifference. Humanity lusts for animal impulsivity, although we know not the purity of this realm's existence in comparison to ours.

Fourth of JuLIE

Between two hilltops grassy and clean
These eyes from afar fixed on a scene obscene
A kalaidescope of red, white, aquamarine

Sandwiched in the volcanic ambiance
Wisps of sweat vaporized on sunny white porches
Unknownst to them the heat was of defiance
Out they congregated with their asymmetrical torches

A crackling flame flew nigh
Spread like a bird of paradise
Electrifying the tranquil sky
Clear and brutally concise

Shattering glass with a thousand methane KABOOMS
Shackling each house, room within room
Chinese fortunes smeared, warning of impending doom
And in surged the bodies, in spurting, mangled platoon

The glitch rose against rainbow slivers
Voices trilled and yellow teeth shivered
When the resonating behemoth of war emerged
Splashing a sea of misery onto the purged

The repercussions grew louder still, it seemed
A few hurrays muffled by the Devil's hot hoof
Stomping the delicate clouds, angry and aloof
While scents of egg shells and burnt pork screamed

This is a place of death
A black dream
Where the miserly hid in their sheath
Of life set hard as frozen cream

Atop the purple hills
Stained with mauve, gold and gall
Faces watched both aghast and enthralled
For even misanthropists shed years of scald
Blood, the liquid still spills
Down through caves of hate it mills


The barely born, in betweens and old, aged as wine
Caught on the hot wire of life and death divine
Clouted and caged by serendipitous teeth
That stretched and gnawed on their fleshy seives

White hands stretched pink
Reddened necks throbbed
Blue veins thickened
A winded flag sobbed

The town was engulfed in a beatific compulsion
The gracious earth shook, trees quivered in repulsion
As shreds of skin and entrails stifled the breeze
Barbeques upturned, ladies sniffled and sneezed

These were the ordained lights of flesh
A wild display of subservience 'neath a star speckled sash
Of a mournful night
Where in the velvet blanket, Mother Midnight choked on human ash.

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hippideeth commented on Fourth of JuLIE

06-25-2009

WOw! this really amazing. Nice word choice though the entire piece. Have you read anything from Charles Baudelaire. If not, you should because I think you would enjoy it :)

crazygirl77

06/27/2009

Thank you for the reference. I will look into Charles Baudlaire's work. If they are anything reminiscent to my poetry, I would surely love to read it for inspiration for future pieces.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

crazygirl77’s Poems (48)

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