"The Wallflowers" (Geckos)

4 Comments

Poem Commentary

This poem is a fun little daydream taken to written word. Well, as you can see, I was lying awake staring at the diaphanous geckos that frequently scurry up and down my wall when I suddenly became inspired. This piece is a product of my wild imagination. You know, I wouldn't mind being a gecko. It would be nice having such a scenic view on life, upside down and inside out, fluttering wildly around on vertical surfaces. This  is not my longest work, but sometimes "short and sweet" can definitely be a good thing. Again, if you have nothing complimentary to say, it would be best that you keep that negativity to yourself. I write for my own personal gratification, so it should be appreciated that I take the time to divulge a small portion of my art into the outer reality of my solitary and recluse existence. This is much too generous of me! I'd rather scribble on paper!

"The Wallflowers" (Geckos)

 

These melancholic creatures dawdle in private
Echoing in eerie trepidation; flat toes scatter dottily
across walls nude and dun, whispering white secrets
Sinuous forms clobber milky surfaces with quilted scale
Bodies dappled, tails swerving, sprightly chirping

A yellow cantata of wild throats clucking, pink lipped
Supine on marble, animated fibers of moonlight, guttural
with feline ferocity; wide irises detract in fiery fluid flexing
Fluffy lashed, fluttering plum hearts on sandy rigid bumps
Like pearlescent glass on black coffins; rabid ashen pigmies

Diaphanous nymphs of the velvety night splurge, unattended
On timorous insect, tap dancing to existence on abandoned slabs
Filching phantasms from static air, gulping the juice of mortality
Flailing their soft bodies against ebony photons of cold shadows

Crawling past the gates of Death as transparent spirits flitting
by on a contorted malleable trance, tasting flushed redolence
while lying upside down, agape and ravenous, like quiet fairies
wizening by the hour, with sand-paper scuttling, tip toeing on gravity

Tendril by tendril wriggle the philosophies of life
A recluse congregation of small slithering beings 
throbbing and twisting in the hushed, sweated vigor
These convulsive, contractile, missionary aliens

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optimistic commented on "The Wallflowers" (Geckos)

08-05-2009

this is different I never thought of it this is a good write.

Helios commented on "The Wallflowers" (Geckos)

08-04-2009

There is a sense of the old style of literature [ which I adore], I do not think your poetry is as crazy as your name suggests [laugh]. I sent my praises for your work...

Qualin commented on "The Wallflowers" (Geckos)

08-04-2009

IM SURE IT REAL GOOD ..BUT OVER THIS HILLBILLIES HEAD....QUALIN...THEMAIR WORDS IS HARD FER ME I GADJATED THE 2ND GRADE THO...YOUR FRIEND QUALIN

Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

crazygirl77’s Poems (48)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Gray Matter 1
Eye Dye 0
Winter Sky 1
Leaves 1
Night 2
The Romance of Knowledge 3
Superliminal 1
Nerve Splinter (Stomach Butterflies) 1
My Random Thoughts (no structure here) 3
Carnal 0
Pomme 1
Multum in parvo 2
Mind 1
"The Wallflowers" (Geckos) 4
Freudian Stream 5
The Red Bridge 0
Garden Rape (a creative rant) 4
Words... 2
Innocence Relinquished 1
Fourth of JuLIE 2
The Baggage 1
Breakfast Thought 0
Existence vs Resistance 1
Alone with Death 0
The Maggot of Love 0
The Wall and I 0
The Rain 0
Trail of the Snail 0
Break 1
Gardenia 3
Violet Eyes 0
Coco_Nut 1
Midnight Sin 2
Moonlight 3
LOVE 4
“Making Love to a Reflection” 8
Art Revived 1
Undone 3
The Rotting Fruit 2
The Struggle 1
Dangerous Mind 0
Blasphemy 6
Awakened by a Scream 1
Life Suckers 3
Random Subconscious 1
Imprisoned Artist 3
False Society 8
It Sleeps 3