Run Aground

5 Comments

Run Aground

The blood rushed the walls of crevices and crooks

in the kitchen tiles,

nestling in the grains like crimson rock pools.

 

Draining from your face at a rapid rate, your looks-

usually all flushes and smiles-

began to resemble more those of a man the ocean rules:

 

silent still, with lips cracking like a row of tiny skulls

and blue. Oh so blue,

I chilled upon seeing the shade life leaves behind.

 

Your hands gripped the night in helplessness, and your moored hull

caused a fear that grew

among those frozen nearby like the lake that lined

 

your shell- just how long would you be driftwood for?

Suddenly, sound pierced again,

and waves of screaming oared me into smoother thinking.

 

Throwing your tongue overboard washed your lungs ashore

and watching you now with sense regained,

it is difficult to recall that you came so close to sinking.

Poem Comments

(5)

Please login or register

You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

Login or Register

MindNumbing commented on Run Aground

01-27-2011

VERY cool write, Arron! I like this dark side, you wear it well :) I read it several times, looking for clues within that would give definition. Like kah, I immediately thought of a quarrel... the elements were all there, but that just didn't seem right for me. I'm so glad that I ventured down to peek at the comments. This is awesome!

HarverTomsson commented on Run Aground

12-31-2010

Are you dead? Hey, speak! Oh, OK, that's gonnna hurt awhile, though. Great distillation of initial panic couched in seafarer's imagery. Harv

arronpalmer

01/04/2011

Actually, this is about my stepfather collapsing and swallowing his tongue on a boating trip. I pulled his tongue out. But no, he's not dead! And neither am I to answer your initial question!

HarverTomsson

01/04/2011

The interrogatives were all directed at the collapsed, not the writer.

arronpalmer

01/04/2011

Ahh, I see that now! Thanks for replying Harv :)

ginga commented on Run Aground

12-31-2010

Arron, The sanguine references bring the rage front and center. A wonderful piece with so much to pay attention to, in this subject's need for revenge. ginga

arronpalmer

01/04/2011

Poetry is an art. The poet's intention is merely a scribble of self-expression and self-therapy- it is the reader's interpretation that makes it a poem. Thank you for picking something completely new and fresh from this.

shallenemcgrath

01/20/2011

exactly... when work stands outside the author- it is authentically art!

am2anangel commented on Run Aground

12-30-2010

excellent metaphorical piece. loved the dark imagery. well done. -Tonya

arronpalmer

01/04/2011

Yeah, I must venture further into dark poetry, this is still quite 'late afternoon' compared to some of the more 'midnight' horror stuff to be found on this site. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it. I may attempt 'early evening' next time ;)

shallenemcgrath

01/20/2011

twilight is often more interesting... almost as interesting as that azure blue of mock dawn

Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

arronpalmer’s Poems (36)

Title Comments
Title Comments
The Dispute, Donnybrook, Dustup 2
Coasting 2
Funeral Party 2
Clemency Coveted, Glory Gained 0
(Skinny, Decaf) Tea With The Vicar 0
Sonnet No.1 1
Fill Him Noir 0
Lain Puisi Cinta 10
Run Aground 5
Perpendicular Parallels 6
SnowfLAkes 3
Usual Tuesday 2
A Life Less Illustrious 16
Brackets 20
New Light 16
A Simple Declaration 15
This Chair Can Be Throne Away 15
Haiku for the Crab 21
Cometment 6
The Fight Becomes a Thrill 9
Falling Once Again 7
Hand Paint in Black (for LNH) 2
The Answer 7
Lemonade 4
The Writer and The Artist 8
Greater Expectations 3
Winter Looks 4
Dust 2
King & Queen of Broken Hearts 5
Two Wars Rage 3
Heartaches Don't Come With Handbrakes (for LNH) 3
C.R.A.P. 2
Big Boy Lost 6
Soar Point Ponderings #39 2
Young Love's Lament 4
Coffee 7