Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Youth's Manic Chic

To see you age, through smiles of stainless steel,
To see your salted skin begin to pale.
and the glint in your eyes become vulnerable tears...
I couldn't bear it.

So i look through a tint.
At everything as if,
everyone were there for solitary immortal moments.
captured in continuous plastic photographs,
Where no blood seeps through potential cracks.

They say these are the good days, the ones they talk about which fade.
Where music blasts through are ears so loud, the echoes of silence sit in the background like reapers and wait.
Like how our day of death hides behind a certain meander of fate.
not known until the step has been taken,
A footstep before your final feat.
When your invincible until your the day your not,
And death is only for a moment, and then the moments gone.

So you turn up the music inside your head,
of romanticized life, and feigned surprises.
And everything dead is something to be forgotten.
and all the gaps you jump over, that you never look below,
are inconveniences never to wonder about, never to ponder.
and you never think on it, the gaps you'll eventually collapse beneath,
The ones that lie below youths manic chic.

1 comment:

  1. Another wonderful poem, so beautifully written. And maybe it's best to forget those gaps, not to think about them, until the moment of that inevitable collapse. Maybe that's what Nietzsche meant when he said: "We have art in order not to perish from the truth."