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gutterbreed — Mornings
Published: 2005-09-21 07:30:31 +0000 UTC; Views: 255; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 9
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Description
The sunlight is buttergold, thick enoughTo slice with broken vinyl records
And spread across the carpet
As it weighs in at
Eight in the morning
It's pressing around my shoulders
Melting on my skin
[Or is my skin melting]
Suffocating
As my lungs collapse
And my mind expands
To reach past and in between
Particles of dust death white and captivating
As they dance to your exhalation
It's deliciously cool
When our feet swim in the shade
Past marigolds stiched into comforters
To touch rough edges of bookshelves
And feel the spines of so many stories
We hesitate to open our eyes
Because our dreams still linger in this half-haze
Leaving their flavor
For us to forget
As you roll over and say
Good morning
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Comments: 18
ahh, this is a magical piece, there's still so much to explore in you gallery. So many treasures.
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hehe, don't look too far back - "titled at random" was the start of a new writing phase for me, anything before that isn't very interesting, and most of it written in my freshman year.
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you know I have to read it now 
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i quit high school early - took the CHSPE and enrolled in community college. i'd be a senior about now. then again i was never really in school - i was kicked out of public school my freshman year.
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oh.. my...
I love this. I love this.
Each delicately-woven stanza flipped my frowns over and over again.
And how it flows. It flows! I can spread it on my toast!
And the syrupy emotion and romantic peace gushing out of it.... ahhh
wonderful.
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thank you so much
oh, if only one could spread mornings onto toast...it would make waking up to eat it so much more appealing!
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Beautiful poem, it definitely shows the dreams we are capable of having and separating whats real and fantasy...Keep up the good work!
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mucho thanks - especially for the fav, i appreciate it
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That's sweet. I hate waking up in the morning, but then it's so nice to wake up next to someone you love.
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oh, it's definitely one of those things that makes the day start wonderfully
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i've never thought of sunlight as anything nearly so violent. something being cut, something spreading and fighting, suffocating and collapsing.
it feels like the tone of the poem changes between the second and third stanzas, from violent delight to comfort. it alsmost feels like you've lost what you were originally trying to say, until you ge to the fourth stanza and the last line. and then all of the sudden it's beatiful and clear.
did that make any sense, or was i jsut rambling?
great poem
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no, not rambling.
i wouldn't say violent, i'd say...rich was more of what i was trying to go for. like wading through hot pudding. drowning is never violent
jeez, but i love your feedback.
fridays at eight at neary's! w00t!
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high fidelity=awesome
i wish my room looked like that apartment, but it's not nearly as cool. the bed's a loft with a built-in bookshelf, though, so i guess that's kinda cool
i'm glad you like it!
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aw, thanks!
and thanks for the fave 
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