Cinnamon after sleeping

by Timothy   Feb 6, 2012


Fathering a goat herder,
Mothering its father,
expelled from all forms of sanity,
spilling some man and dog.

He chuckled to breathe his freedom,
but I fished his boiling cinnamon-
stare, grinning amongst his bald sport,
mocking my grapefruit thoughts.

So, I painted the barracks myself.

Cabled sunshine;
I'd jingle to greet them,
past shaking hips and
unborn balloons.

Silent cries were halted,
like foetus spotlighted and questioned,
embellished in raspberry honey
far from the starlight bath.

The atmosphere - dismal,
sombre,
arctic,
and even the midst of spring would restrict
any rotten mammoth from tonguing its bleak controversy.

Yards ahead the air grew anorexic,
as I tried to quake the word of old,
but no justice was equal to a stride
at the ever-blinding
turn of the tide.

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Latest Comments

  • 12 years ago

    by Ed or Ian Henderson

    I suspect you were high when you wrote this. Frankly, sober, and on the third read, it makes no sense. But there's a fluidity to it that makes it a compelling read. Sober or otherwise, good poetry should be engaging and colourful, and this is exactly that.

    I'd love you to explain "So, I painted the barracks myself." as it's frankly the bit that suggests an altered state of mind, because I can't for the life of me gauge the context.

    A lovely read, though. I'll be coming back to this one in an altered state, that's for sure.

  • 12 years ago

    by Decayed

    Timothy, I have read this for like five times, and in each I change my mind towards what you really mean.

    I think the main subject is revolving around 'old people', and I can infer that from those images:

    Fathering a goat herder,
    Mothering its father,
    ....
    bald sport
    shaking hips...
    ....

    I'd really like to know what's this about because your style is so darn unique, and each verse is very deep. I'm really illiterate :) haha

    I can get the feeling that it's kind of like the Tell-Tale Heart? or isn't it?

    Are you trying to kill an old man? or are you trying to belittle him?

    I love this verse:

    mocking my grapefruit thoughts.

    ^ As if the old man is mocking your youth, love how you described your thoughts with 'grapefruit' to represent the youth and freshness.

    I cannot really diffuse into the real meaning, and this is the cause I like your poetry. You say much, but I grasp a little.

    Timothy, way to go and congrats for the win!:)

  • 12 years ago

    by Karla

    Stunnig piece Timothy. You have a very unique style. Much enjoyed.

  • 12 years ago

    by Maple Tree

    Timothy-

    I love your title for starters.... very unique...
    Your word usage is really fun... You have a very creative way of sucking the reader in... each stanza captivated me... the ending stanza..

    "Yards ahead the air grew anorexic,
    as I tried to quake the word of old,
    but no justice was equal to a stride
    at the ever-blinding
    turn of the tide. "

    ^^^^^ awesome!!!

    well done~

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