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Literature Text
It's the end of the line:
twine torn thin between
rotten railway sides
and the trains
that slide
in and out of light
like my tunnel-sight:
shackled to life
(and the line)
in Noir.
Time unwinds
behind thine eyes:
A broken reel run-away
whose frames flicker
and skip
and stick
like a flip-book,
pages carved into flight
from a steam locomotive
streaming on by.
Smoke and pulp conspire
in the spiral skies,
delicately deconstructing
dreamscape deaths
in the mire:
reversing chase patterns
pulled from plans
and pursuers in blotted
black and white
-- and blood
caked upon canvas:
causality cracks
against crimson tides,
tearing tension
cables along a track
caught alight
-- and eyes
that burn open,
bleary at midnight.
twine torn thin between
rotten railway sides
and the trains
that slide
in and out of light
like my tunnel-sight:
shackled to life
(and the line)
in Noir.
Time unwinds
behind thine eyes:
A broken reel run-away
whose frames flicker
and skip
and stick
like a flip-book,
pages carved into flight
from a steam locomotive
streaming on by.
Smoke and pulp conspire
in the spiral skies,
delicately deconstructing
dreamscape deaths
in the mire:
reversing chase patterns
pulled from plans
and pursuers in blotted
black and white
-- and blood
caked upon canvas:
causality cracks
against crimson tides,
tearing tension
cables along a track
caught alight
-- and eyes
that burn open,
bleary at midnight.
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Updated: 04/01/2010 @ 02:55
Project2010: 005 of 375 (January 3rd)
Project2010: 005 of 375 (January 3rd)
A piece about a dream I had last night which stuck in my consciousness; something that is rather rare, for me. To condense the story, I was on the run in Russia from the mob or Mafia, who were remarkably eager to kill me. However, I had the ability to slow time to such an extent that I could escape their immediate clutches, but never enough to free myself of them entirely. It all came to a head in a train station before I awoke with the story, inevitably, incomplete.
The last stanza feels somewhat unnecessary: thoughts? Additionally, I can only apologise for my unerring tendency to shoe-horn as much alliteration into any given piece as is humanly possible. That said, don't expect it to end any time soon. Ahaha.
© 2010 - 2024 arctoa
Comments15
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I'm 'past midnight' where I am now and thinking about staying up 'til dawn, editing stuff. I really feel this piece now. Thank you. Congrats on the DLD. 