introversion

Set of words 

Let me read you
 the opposite of poetry.

I pull out a letter knife 
And toy with red-lettered words
Till I no longer have a thirst for the apple juice
Or the Antarctic sky.

Whatever comes up
The blood or blues
I gulp it down with white wine
Until my feet are cold, enough for sleep,
I dream 

And then I weep in poetry. 

Diana

Universally Speechless by msdawe

Image credit: msdawe

 

My words dry up

To speak becomes a Lochness monster

And the horizon closes its throat,

I feel I’ve grown old since the day I first parted

From the many of you,

Under your many heads, one face piqued.

I eat.

The sorrow that comes my way

And I think about a man left alone in a cave for 55 years

Till his tongue tired without practice,

He forgot language.

 

How easy it is to belong to one flesh

Only to be shorn off with a simple letter-knife.

 

A mad bird sits upon my lips,

Carving in my gums,

The troops of words that march past me

Whenever I see your face;

In my head, an avalanche.

 

Image source: http://msdawe.deviantart.com/art/Universally-Speechless-134724177

Like an open book

image

I write words and I look at them,
These spaces between the letters
Where I divide myself and put me in it
For you to read
For you to breathe
The love I have felt
underneath the chapsticks of language,
I corrode in its cacophonous transactions,
What pitiful it gives
For the tinge of a blood-coated lip
Or the nestling smog on my coat,
I haply kneel… I bang at its chest
Language, you have betrayed me.

In circular motions at my throat,
The glitch that I feel
Of my tongue that has sailed to Elysium,
I cannot explain
The love I feel.
Do you then, dear reader
Dare offer a rose
At my grave
of a crude chin?

If you can not drink from my cup,
Let me still believe
You have tupped me empty
From my full.

Pineapple song

                  “Introversion” © Irene Vincent

 

When I reveal,

I unravel like a guttural sound escaping

from the phalanges of beasts

maliciously contained.

 

From a figment of lavender blush

in the sky at supper,

I find people who roll me up in a ball

picking me up on a crowded beach

and eating me

for simple memory-purposes.

 

I am not kind when I reveal

a tight-clam

shut close

expanding like  a black hole

‘Which way are you moving?’

 

If you will eat me,

I will eat you back

A carcass of a human trapped inside

a shy pineapple,

and a sour gum.