Lovecraft
February 26th, 2014, 01:59 AM
Context: I was coming down from being high and walking through a rainstorm, and this is me trying to explain the night I had. It needs some edits but I'd love some feedback and/or constructive criticism; I hadn't written free verse in a while so it was a little difficult to get the rhythm going.
The rain is a horde of fireflies
The light deific
to speak to me in foreign languages
Overripe plum perfumes the
thousand whispers of the roaring storm
that drops my framerate
and sends white-hot shudders through my numbness
leaving the taste of enchantment on my tongue like
the exact sort of wine that I hate
for a single organic shriek
Bach to the twinkle of Oxford
out of place smothered in bus songs
and potent prescriptions
of all the “pam”s
Hold hands with the stale old wolf
whose kind is the best for company
over grilled-cheese and tea
and wrinkled Aldous Huxley first editions
I love you, it said
and then we were happy
our mountainside spire cruelly dark
in the unfathomable light
The rain is a horde of fireflies
The light deific
to speak to me in foreign languages
Overripe plum perfumes the
thousand whispers of the roaring storm
that drops my framerate
and sends white-hot shudders through my numbness
leaving the taste of enchantment on my tongue like
the exact sort of wine that I hate
for a single organic shriek
Bach to the twinkle of Oxford
out of place smothered in bus songs
and potent prescriptions
of all the “pam”s
Hold hands with the stale old wolf
whose kind is the best for company
over grilled-cheese and tea
and wrinkled Aldous Huxley first editions
I love you, it said
and then we were happy
our mountainside spire cruelly dark
in the unfathomable light