The Catharsis Will Linger Like Petrichor
Like bullets or knives or something brutal,
Noise pierces through either side of your skull.
It neither ricochets, nor grazes walls,
But meets itself in the core and explodes.
Like fireworks, dynamite, something fatal,
All conscious thought is obliterated.
Neon erupts, like watching lightning storms
From behind eyelids - see the veins ignite!
Tingles rise, like ghosts of rain on your flesh,
And lyrics strike like thunder upon each
Notch of your spine. A booming crescendo,
Cloud-mind flashes with half-enlightenment!
Fragmented codas - all wide eyes, all squalls!
Hear the wind's cracking howls: your house falls down.
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Author guidance for This poem
This is how I feel about music; dotted through the first poem are excerpts from some of my own cursed songs.Inspired by the EP "Certain Songs Are Cursed" by Johnny Foreigner. I highly recommend it.
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You're currently reading a chapter in the poem
Certain Songs Are Cursed. This chapter
was posted on Jul 17, 2011 by
Miserabilia.
This is a collaborative poem.
Some rights reserved.
This poem is filed under:
Free Verse, Imagery, Philosophy / Moral
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