To melt one's own
To melt one's own
To take a melatonin pill and tic
my metronome to life - that's all I want,
so I may tune into some mellow tone,
lie on my lodestone mattress, and allow
my bones to turn in perfect time with Earth,
led by her iron core and molten seas
that warp and reach, then heave to breach and wrap
black hands of steaming glass around my feet
to ragdoll-drag me off my sheets, through yards,
to briars, reeds, and willow trees, where a stream
will be my Will-o-wisp and bear my flesh
to somewhere deep and damp, but cold enough
to keep it whole for one millennium,
or two, until I choose to leave my tomb,
unswallow sleep, and reap the sun again.
(I love run-on sentences)
Note: a 'lodestone' is a kind of naturally magnetic rock, historically used as compass
Posted Mar 24, 2017, 9:06 PM UTC · edited
This is ace. The word choice and imagery is what I want to do with everything I write and I'm jealous. I like the rhymes in the middle of stanzas, and I think there could be a few more. The poem feels dense when I read it aloud, which works with the imagery of molten earth, of millenia of passing time.
I wrote this all in one day, so I didn't really get a chance to step back and come at it fresh on my own, and I'm really glad you like the way it turned out!
I do try to keep my poems dense and use mostly internal rhymes. Thanks for noticing!
Also I was a little worried that I stuffed too much into this one run-on sentence (shooting between personal and global scales/images) but I feel like it works with the sort of stream-of-consciousness theme.
Thanks for taking the time to comment!