Lips flaming,
Burning numb
Like menthol.
The tingles tinge
My mind's eye.
Beware the sty
That swells bloated
Beneath.
The wreath,
Mangled and gnarled,
Hangs noose-like
Around my senses.
How did I get here?
I wonder,
No, I wander.
Really? Both.
The blind leads
The blind
With muted perception.
Here it is:
The misconception
That I am lost.
I've been lost
On an island of despair.
There.
I've been found.
Profound.
Layered reality
Cakes on like icing
On the cherry-topped mind.
Ooh, who doesn't like dessert?
Deserted,
Yet still around.
Again, profound.
This won't take
Me down.
Went to town.
Went in the blue car.
A mundane journey,
Not very far
Are the worms
From their purpose.
Fertile is the ground.
All around me
The sky reaches down.
Now, that's profound.
The explosion.
Inside we ate,
But did not dissipate
Our kinship of tears.
Love hurts
Even as it heals,
Even as it steals
Me away in the night;
But, there's the blight.
It's not right
To bring that sight
Upon those souls
Who love me.
The tinging tingles
Tickle.
No longer a burn,
The cooling sensation
Satiates the soul
Seeking the burial mound
Of seething sound.
I can’t stop
Being profound.
There!
I’ve unwound.
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: August 4th, 2024 01:16
- Comment from author about the poem: "Unwound" is a deeply introspective and reflective poem that delves into my personal thoughts, emotions, and experiences. Through vivid imagery and sensory details, I explore themes of self-awareness, confusion, and clarity. The journey from a state of confusion and despair to moments of profound realization and peace captures the complexity of the human experience. This poem blends moments of pain, healing, and profound insight, inviting readers to join me on this contemplative journey.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 12
Offline)
Comments3
And now, me being very un-profound - depends what sort of tingle it is, I suppose. Best not tell me where the tingle might be, or I might swoon (saucy me)! lol.
I might fancy a 'tinging tingle'? heeehee.
Hahaha! Thanks for reading!!!
Oh, it's the eye - the tingle.
A bit of scratchy eye conjunctivitis can drive us mad. It's like a piece of non-existent grit in the eye.
Disjointed thought link in chains as they pass through our minds. Here many come together in almost a rap as the internal rhyme rolls out. Nicely done.
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