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Emaline Delapaix
http://delapaix.purpledream.com
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Mirrors Of Horror
05/15/05 |
Cutting under streams
wanting to drown
but they keep pulling her out
leaves floating down tickle the skin
the eyes don't agree with the tears
the hands hurt and joints crack from winter chills
and she's beautiful but she cannot see
because mirrors of horror hang about her
surrounding her, suffocating, blood in the air
a heart that is swollen with bruises cannot fight
a mind full of fear and paranoia cannot sense joy
to send to the skin or lips to produce a smile
collapsing like a dry shell that was once brightly
colored with red, brown and orange, her body heaves
time hasn't been kind
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Moving Out
06/23/05 |
Hesitating in geography
foot in foot out, undecided
biting water surrounding her unhinged nervous body
unmoved, spiritless, distant and appalled
paved in by the lingering hours of loneliness
she is kept, frightened by disordered thoughts
tempted and isolated at the same time
boxes full of sweet reverie
hours of laborious gravity
fingers strained, flesh pulped,
anesthetized from heavy words
domineering divine will
kept in time, humbled with fear
lest she should completely lose herself
into the art, the art today, such is gone tomorrow
the art that is she, and her cramped between these 10 walls
with lemon sugar crepes and promises
crepes that can be enjoyed, fingers sticky, sweet licking
but promises that cannot
leave them here
with the memories, the boxed up idols and ideals
and tokens from rescued moments in time
when content and art could not survive together
as soon as you lock the door for the last time
looking back, struggling to surrender
take a hard deep breath, clasp her hand
and this time don't promise...
just believe in the moment and go
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Ripening
07/06/05 |
You ask me if I feel the words that the whole world uses so freely
You ask me thinking that if I don't answer yes it means less
How can I explain what this is with my fresh ears and hard skinned toes?
I have sailed ships to foreign shores
keeping my feet on board without getting wet
but now I am less afraid and dip my feet in
one by one
savoring the bubbles, the foam, the salt
it's good for your skin you know
I have had many adventures on my ship
my proud deck before me
the somatical pirate, the cheap captain
the land, a distant and lovely reminder
making me wonder
can I become a fish
and swim back to my love?
For many hours, the dry salt air stung my sleepy skin
I forgot the softness of dry land, the infant grass between my toes
And now ashore, it seems my words fail me
But look closely...
for my heart is in the things I do
and my love is in the time I give
For many hours I have spent alone without meaningful exchange
dead men tell no tales so my words ARE sure to fail me
But have patience and lean closer now
Can you hear something?
That creaky muscle is ripening
It's flowers are growing a little higher every day
as much as a juiceless, salt eaten root can manage
Once it was peach and lilac
and in the summer for you it shall be again
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Snake Skin
07/22/05 |
I fall for you and loathe you in our dreams
for consuming me
and for fighting those senses long ago
you laugh
cruel and adoring at the same time
it was always like this
you tell me nothing has changed
but that you fear my complexity
while you tug at my heart
believing it is still yours
what gives you the right?
and I can't help but love you still
I f**king hate you for that
even in these purple walls on the 15th floor I am not safe
forgetting myself
peeling the dead skin off
your snake skin is constant
running through years and countries
pummeling other hearts to distract from my own
you would be proud
you could learn a thing or four
for you are not the almighty I once believed you were
but you are still my querido
in the softness I remember that
before slipping into your darkness
while that cloak of vows flaps wildly
will you remember?
I'm waking up now...
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Poem For Australia
08/11/05 |
Your tasty beams
salty, sweat framed faces
bleeding into me
collapsing under my weight
delighting in the silky dust
dry bones rub lustfully under my feet
I dream of you, I long for you
how could I have lost you?
I grew in another's customs
but I didn't forget you
will you let me come home again?
I have so much to show you
you will remind me again
of the beauty
torn edges
rusty colors
and that dry wit
no comparisons can be made
we are all so Australian
the waves lap at my memories
but my love for you is strong
like the banksia brush
will scratch
my soft
forgetful skin in December
leave me for now
my antipodean dreaming
as I try to make friends
in this concrete jungle
of forgotten kindness
seeds for growing
and the fast food life
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Overlap
10/15/05 |
Alone I dip
locking myself in the cupboard
to sink into the blackness
sweating the disturbances out of my pores
while you sleep
before you wake
catapulting into darkness
a wetness, lovely and new
fear, the leach that you are
be gone now
writhe alone
you are not to be fed by me
sidling silly into bliss
living by my heart
running along side with the quavers
beating out the dents in your old beast
they all know that I am now in town
underneath shadows simmer
wandering, lost
to teach them where they belong
we overlap, holding winter dry hands
my joints ache, calming in your skin
I take a breath to learn to break
a monster in my own mirror
but I am shedding...
what a lovely, painful mess
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Schlemiel
11/15/05 |
Is it lonely in your spurious caboose
holding hands with desperate strangers
bathing in the knowledge that they love you
with their prying eyes and gluttonous, dripping beaks
Is it empty in that compartment that you decorate with care
with the dizzy pictures and beguiling tales of glitzy bargain basement fantasies
that ordinary people dream about but don't have the courage to take for themselves
For now you are safely kept within the thin veneer that you hold up so boldly
But it's only a matter of time before your lies stretch
painful and cracking
making their way through your limbs
one by one
squeezing and burning out of your skin for everyone to see
with horror and disappointment
Leaving behind a stinking shell;
the insecure schlemiel playing dress up...
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