Mention This To Me…

*A few words on the go*

A thousand swans hold winter fields
With purposeful white shadows,
Reflective skies become sorrows
Flakes on ephedrine memories,
Is there nothing more than empty tenderness
For all those futile embraces,
How do these pieces fit?
Reformation of sticks and dead leaves?
Penetrating reductive romances
With novel circumstance,
Yet in the radiating sun
Warming inconspicuous dalliances
Focus their light through precious jewels,
Prism of the years before,
Premonitions hold in glowing moments,
Tedium and fear test calm vitality
Against those unfollowed dreams,
Tangential transparency,
Was there a time the pieces fit?
A schism between us
To do with as we wished,
Those patterns heart’s concoct,
Blood soaks into falls snow,
Imitation of heavens clouds,
How I see you there each time I look,
Those granite skies collapse
Against nature, but it would mean
The world is full of diverging meaning
And I know, I know, I know,
The pieces fit!

On the lake the swans submerge
Emotive to the frost furled aqua,
On the vibrations smoke fills the air,
Prominent power,
Another parasitic underbrush or
A chance to pull the cord on accidental promises,
Rueful figments siphon fruition,
Taking this to be another distant lie,
They say there’s so much rage inside,
Stealing those cordial lines,
I work through it, work through it,
The beating of the drum, delirium,
Delivered to passions foreplay,
I am what you made me,

We miss the tender truth,
All I see, despondent circumference
Of a tattered world, hearing the cries
To push the envelope, watch it bend,
Feel the coming of winters end,
Hold me to this omen if you wish,
Breaking the cycle provokes sublime
Interjections of reality,
Among those weeping fires,
How she wept, how she wept,
Inspired and witnessed,
The spiral weaves the corners
Ravenous to be comforted
In the arms of her lost self,
Atoned across your naked will
I reach for your never-will-be,
Around, around, around,
Foreground playground and fragile
I collapse at your soul,
It doesn’t bother me,
Does it itch beneath the skin?
Cradled in you I find forgotten meaning,
What I was, what I did,
What I could have been,
I watch the weather change,
Life change,
We change,
Freedom comes with contracted seasons,
I watch the weather change.

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Poem © Phen Weston 2014
Image © Pavel Gospodinov 2013

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6 thoughts on “Mention This To Me…

  1. By any chance, is this TOOL inspired? Obviously not directly, but I think I see slight patterns (title included – which is a line in my all time favorite song by them called Disposition) Knowing you, this was just a happy coincidence. Take care, really enjoyed the read 🙂

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