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gutterbreed — Fever Dreams
Published: 2005-09-30 10:14:04 +0000 UTC; Views: 632; Favourites: 8; Downloads: 12
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Description
When I disconnected your spineEach vertebrae popping like a bottlecap
My reflection in your eyes turned bitter like
The taste in the back of my throat
Your skin should have been there
Should have cradled you
As I pressed my thumb against the hooks in your bone
pop
[oh, God, that light!
don't let it find me again
I was so inexplicably frozen
by quicksilver pulsations and
that horrific phrase]
"ohjesusnoohgodohgod..."
The walls were mahogany, and
My mother, she was in the corner
Crying
Streamlined channels like
Wires, cords,
Carried me faster than fast
I was lightning, my skin prickled until I realized
I had none
You and I, we sat on the rooftop as
The bombs fell, pushing skyscrapers
Until they collapsed against each other
Sighing, as some mighty hand
Stuck a needle in the bubble of flame
The smoke rolled through our hair, between our eyelids
And we laughed
And continued to smoke Camel Light 100s
Your body felt cold and stiff
Or was mine hot and fluid,
as you tipped water past my lips and said
You're burning up at
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Comments: 34
this poem is amazing. i found it a long time ago and copied and pasted it into one of my documents where i keep all of my favorite deviant stuff. i looked at it for a long time and then i decided i had to find out who wrote it! and that is why im here. i think its just amazing. it should definitely not belong in scraps. its amazing, breathtaking. *runs to look at your gallery*
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I absolutely love it. It jumps around a bit, but I adore it. Very well done!
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this is great. it's frantic and thrilling, but still poetry. i loved it.
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after having this poem picked apart and put back together so many times, i'd like to think if it were on paper, it'd be the most dog-eared.
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i haven't had a good dream in so long. i mean, last night i dreamt of made-up university courses and a man named david gallagher who is quite famous in dreamland, apparently, and a side-splitter too.
i like this, and your gallery, a lot. it's not raw in the sense of unfinished, but raw because everything seems so honest and true and spoken like in the back of a dark closet in a house where stupid drunk people are looning about outside and you're holding court with a torch and a grin.
also this reminds me of patti smith's birdland. i think it's the similes and the tempo.
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thank you. for the add, for the fav, and for the wonderful comment. i should go hunting in closets more often and see what i find - of course, who knows what i might do with that torch...
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that's no problem. be careful the closets aren't disappointing. the ones i find and the things i plan to do in them always are.
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This is pretty awesome... I love whatever has to do with dreams/nightmares (as long as it's well-written like this one), I write a lot a bout dreams and nightmares myself.
This is my favorite part by far:
"You and I, we sat on the rooftop as
The bombs fell, pushing skyscrapers
Until they collapsed against each other"
Of course, it doesn't work without the rest of the poem, but you know what I mean.
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it was definitely the trippiest part of the dream. of course, i could never describe dreams just right, but if i could the world would probably be clinging to that one - i certain as hell was, hehe.
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Well yeah I'll never know whether you did a good job on it... I wish we could record our dreams, that would be the biggest money-maker in history 
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Kick ass imagery. It's awesomely vivid. Also disjointed like a dream. The dream that inspired it must have been amazing. Smoking cigarettes at the end of the world is a wild idea! good work.
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ooh, intense is more the word i'm thinking - it was frightening.
thank you for the comment
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Jesus...you've captured this REALLY well. I especially like the lines
"I was lightning, my skin prickled until I realized
I had none"
brilliant
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nothin like being sick for inspiration, huh?
thank you
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I really enjoy this one, after having looked at a few more in your gallery.
I have to say my favorite lines are "My reflection in your eyes turned bitter like/The taste in the back of my throat."
Speaks volumes to me.
Keep up the wonderful work.
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the one flavor i could never deal with, yet it crops up all over the place.
thank you kindly
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Wow...
It's nifty how sometimes scraps could just scream so much more than what you'd really think.
I don't know. There's just a beauty in yanking out spontaneous raw dream-inspired emotion.
The end of the world. Captured in just a mouthful of beautifully wobbly words in such a starry way.
Never ever stop writing!
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ok, i think you've confirmed it - that apocolypse bit is going to prose.
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I love it. Laughing at the end of the world.
I especially love the first stanza. It's brilliant.
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thank you
each stanza is actually based on a real dream - the end of the world, well, i was thinking of writing a whole prose off of that dream, it tripped me out so hard.
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I think that would be really cool! you should do it.
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now that you've stirred the thought up to the surface, i probably shall
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this is just....................amazing i think is the best adjective i can think of at the moment(if i werent so awestruck maybe my ordinarlily healthy vocabulary would help me out here.) the imagery is top notch and the flow is very interesting, it really captures the reader. i especially loved the last stanza but i couldnt tell you why if i tried because i myself dont know. please, keep the good work up and dont sell yourself short by any means.
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thank you so much...it means a lot
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an excellent portrayl of annihilation, in some form or another.
and great, looming images. which i am a sucker for.
nice to find a good read.
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haha! i never thought of them as looming. that's a good thing to start paying attention to
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The above comment that used the phrase "infectiously brilliant" would describe my thoughts exactly.
You make the best stream-of-concious stuff, I swear. :thumbs up:
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...! thank you!
i'm glad some people like reading what i write, it makes me enjoy writing that much more
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dam straight, this is excellent- personally, I really like it. You have a gift at making pain seem beautiful. this "scrap" as you put it speaks beauty to me. Then again I barely get half the things you write about (my loss...) so something like this, descriptive, is great for simpleton like me.
thank you
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ah, well, tis time i write something that strikes a chord (or even just a note) with you. i'm glad you like it.
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ah, this makes me happy!
but really, i couldn't really convey quite what the dreams felt like in this. i'm horrible at describing my dreams. at least i didn't try to describe the fever
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