PEON POETRY

Decay

ben — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 14:32:40 +0000

Figures standing still,
crack, decay, crumble -
under the weight of endless time.

Frozen on a winding road
bereft of life, laughter and love
with the Dark ever creeping.

A colourless, speckled visage,
marred by a sullen silhouette
asphyxiated by forlorn hope.

Repulsion

ben — Sat, 05 Mar 2011 14:22:53 +0000

hate. an outward force.
a necessary parity.
twisted, yet paramount.
Without, what is love?

Extraction

ben — Sat, 05 Mar 2011 13:58:37 +0000

Late this morning, I saw a world;
a world of the dream. Hazy-eyed,
a view eerie, yet terribly surreal.

I saw you there, close by me.
You held me, fingers clasped.
Gripping everlasting love.

Abrupt flood. Asphyxiated.
Falling away from what once was.
Sudden revival. I’m back…

Memories – blotched.
Feelings – sustained.
Truth – extracted.

Attraction

ben — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 12:55:09 +0000

love. A simple idea.
yet such a complex emotion
intertwining, integrating
into all human souls.

City

ben — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 12:53:27 +0000

A gloomy, bleak morning sky
disturbed by boiling, pungent air,
drifts around inanimate glass slabs
and towers over a bustling swarm.

Party

ben — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 12:52:27 +0000

claustrophobic. loud.
too much to drink.
intoxicated.

Bacon

ben — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 12:51:30 +0000

crackle, crackle, crackle.
oozing fat. moist, tender texture.
tasty.

Displaced

ben — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 12:50:37 +0000

I look in your eyes
I see an eternal darkness
a pitch black, enveloped by a void
unknown to all.

I hold your hands
I feel a burning chill
cold flesh; wrapped in rags
stagnant with decay.

I caress your body
so lifeless. There is nothing.
a hollow husk; laid threadbare
gilded with fading light.

A warmth long gone.

Dawn

ben — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 12:47:49 +0000

waking up, I expect to see the sun
instead, just fog.
mind is hazy; clarity lacking.
dreary, worn.
a forgotten night gone past.

Swept

ben — Mon, 04 Oct 2010 10:54:46 +0000

I sweep myself across a barren, vast ocean floor.
I sweep myself above cold, watery grass.
I sweep myself through charred, scorched fields.
Waiting without end.

Truth is – regeneration never comes.
I must sweep on
until Death itself awaits me -
moaning at my doorstep.

Time will come to pass
and Legend will forever remember
one who swept -
while he silently wept.