the world is splitting open at my feet

7/28/2019 The World Is Splitting Open At My Feet

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The World Is Splitting Open At My Feet

ColeHayley


3/32

a table of contents

i. feminine speechii. leucosia

iii. a mute. a idiot

iv. running around circles

v. film

vi. the beat poem

vii. gyrate around axis

viii. my confession


4/32

The artist isnt home

Her atoms lied to the Tax Man

Now her house is foreclosed

And her children sleep alone

No more slight of hand

Silk infested bed sheetsAnd brilliant nightshade

Facial seizures

Contemporary dance

She speaks in a foreign language

No the artist is not here.

Her heads stuck in the oven

Back in London.

F e m I n I n e S p e e c h


5/32

Feminine SpeechFeminine speech.

Stork, covered in mulberryWine. The stories you sang

At the children's bedside.

I smiled through the wall.

Take me away tonight

With the nursery rhymes

And soft sentences.

Censure set abroad, by your

Feminine speech.

You slogged with the day-time,

And came home so mirthful

Warming milk

And seaming the unweaving

Fabric. My wool vest.

Snow bathed the house

During the night-time.

You snuck in the bedAlong the substance-less

Midnight.

The children, sedated and fed.

The pages through

The index. All stupefied

And you twirled their hair

Until hush.

You kissed my faceAnd sunk underneath my bones.

From there to wherever,

Slept with the haze of stars

Silently.


6/32

[you werent there when I neededyou are gone. youre going under. ]

- leucosia


7/32

LeucosiaHer lure is empty, a siren ousted

On a fruitless beach. Mid-winter,

The howling of the solstice aches

In her marrow. I was sent by the

Lab. To pick the creature up:

In my arms. To study,

To watch it decay.

The over-wash of eyes, it suddenly

Reminded me of a willow. Stuck

Behind a wooden fence. Cold-blueMountains above and larks

Humming. The loneliness

Of that blank valley, rippled

Across a plain of pestilence.

The moist night-air, crackling

Dawn. Barren. In cold-blue eyes.

Her eyes.

The body was covered in lacerations.

Over-saturated in salt.

Poor thing,

I thought out loud. I

Wish I could of saved

It.

I took it back to the

Lab. To study---

I cut it openWith a cold-grey knife.

Cleft apart, bit by bit.

I saw the willows,

Bend----

I saw it spit


8/32

Out such

Blood.

In plain

Sight,

--- Hunched over

In flakes of

Skin, so

Forgotten.

Anesthesia-soaked

Reflections of a decomposing

Verve, plush in her scales.

Extraction-then expulsion.

The siren was flushed

Out the back alley, in theTrash can. My mind melted,

Like hot plastic. Sticky

Residue. It waited for her

To come back to life.

The rocky shores, have

Come forth to land. My shipwreck

Is abased, and conscience afloat.

The siren held my hand, my heart,But just as her dead carcass fell,

I, myself, drowned.


9/32

A mute a idiot

Imagine Dragons are overrated

october 14th 2012

its an optical thing. both bi-lateral figures holding grudges

on opposing cliffs, a weird alantic. were terrible to each

other, were terrible to each other.


10/32

A Mute. A IdiotShy away, the girl hunches over

The barrel. Acting as a cadaver.

For the men in her night-sleep

The one who discolored

All of her blood vessels:

Inside a plummet.

A mute. A idiot,

Her clasp. Never accounted

To very much. WordsThey all spoke.

They all tongued

In the same language.

Her whole life she heard

Every utter, every word,

Nice promises.

I cannot imagine

Why one would stay,So naive. Poignant:

They all must of felt.

To be so abased,

To strike feminine flesh

And drink their yeast.

A mute. A idiot,

In her clasp. Never

Guessed it would of

Happened to a girlSo comely, so cher

The one who always walked

With a strike strut,

But never cared.

A mute. A idiot

For sure. She must


11/32

Of been. I can't think

Of why else. She would

Stay. With

Him. His piercing soil

And rugged ash

Of a beard. His hard-assed

Stare, mounted on a pedestal

For the world to see.

But no one ever questioned,

She covered it all

With her make up.

The words were easy,

She cried silently,

Tearless.

A mute. A Idiot

To love him

The way she does. I fall,

When I talk to her.

I try to dilute

Into liquid. To poison

His beer-of-yeast. At night,

I would bury his bodyIn soil. Never to be

Conscious again.

But two nights ago,

I buried her bones. Skull-cracked,

With the back end

Of a hammer. He had been drunk,

On his yeast. He carried her

To the limits, aligned

In the inexact.And I cried, tearful,

For her.

He said he was sorry,

How he wished,

He could die as well.


12/32

He was

A mute. A idiot,

But he took her away.

Like a learned man,

And embodied the

Skill set of a assassin.

I went to the courthouse,

To kill the learned man.

To put-an-end-to,

But I couldn't do it.

I was mute.

I was an idiot,

To not pull the trigger

And fly from fallacy,And into her arms.

But I couldn't do it,

I couldn't do it.


13/32

youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre

wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong



youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong yourewrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong




wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre youre wrong youre




youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong yourewrong youre wrong youre youre wrong youre wrong youre





wrong youre youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre



wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrongyoure wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre





youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre youre wrong




youre wrong youre wrong youre youre wrong youre wrong





14/32


youre wrong youre youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong




youre youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong




wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre youre




wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre youre wrong youre





wrong youre wrong youre youre wrong youre wrong youre




wrong youre youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre








youre wrong youre wrong youre wrong youre youre wrong


wrong youre wrong youre running around circles -------------


15/32

Running Around CirclesHer synchronicity lies

In the practical. The groceryShopping, the school work.

It all lies on a straight line,

Far away from the bell-curve.

I don't question her. But

I want to love it, the patterns.

Im but a shrew to her

"planned-evenings" andpriorities.

( She hides her stripes.

But she sleeps stretched, in a

Lioness cast. )

Derived without a faux-judgment

She knows every word:

- Protozoa

- Amoeba

- Euglena- Ecoli

- Paramecium

- Volvox.

However

She sometimes

Forgets my

Birthday.

The gyre is winding down,

This circle-running has

A receptive nature. My dear.

Boredom is a number,

You recite it in night-sleep.


16/32

Tiresome, and dismounted.

A severed bias, for your

Grocery shopping. The

School work.

Our window pane boasts

The truthful fears.

The admission of guilt,

A frailty so enclosed, blossoms

On the highest esker. You

Dream of the most

Amazing things. It kills

Me to realize, they never

Seep through that alloy

Casting you enamel.

Your beautiful voice,

Delicate being, I've dreamed

Forever of faraway sparklers.

A stone bridge, a nervous

Endeavor: brushing the hair

Out of your eyes. Clever words.

The eraser is cuttingDeep, a sleepy prominence.

For us, we know the

Plastic that covers our

Words. The voiceless

Momentum that brought

Us along this rocky cliff.

Life is decomposing, we

Are aging. The future is

Brittle, so let us go forth

Being cautionary and gentle.


17/32

f

i

The scampering of the little handPlying against the glass canopy.

Plastic tegument, mocking me.

I know I'm getting older

In directly.

Clock sprung down the levee, screaming

"I'll allow you to speak your mind"

As long as you figure out

What Ill grow up to be.

Go to school. A bronze medal,

What will do is up to you.

University sprung down the levee

Screaming, "tuition is rising"

Their hover cars spin out of control.

l

m


18/32

FilmI slept with the fog:

A manifestation.

I was helpless

---

Aimlessly sick.

I slept with the fog

In such relentlessness.

As I was loveless.

Searching for a girl

---Who didn't exist.

At least in this mildew

Which I had admired

Unaccountably.

Lonely lake I muttered.

This solitary brush in

The forest.

There,

------------------- The swans all had busted

Out.

Their cuckold

Weather balloon.

Their

Dives echoed into a swoon, dreary spirits

Waited in the negatives.

Coiled roses, wooden bridge.Pragmatic portraits.

I was:

Like a dog,


19/32

Selling sex for a bone.

Howling along my

Mating calls, the

Full moon. Playful

Aggression, running

In the park. Tree branches,

Splitting hedges, foiled

Tulips.

This existential

Game of fetch.

How reckless

It has

Become.

In the margin of

Night-sleep

Attention dripped over

The windowsill. How

All of a sudden,

The girl in my

Nightwear

Calls out. SlayingThe follicles of memoirs

Calling out the treason

Of the mist,

Or fog.

It so happens to be.

It still happens to seem.

Both carried

Out in sugar

-Coated bliss.

Wicker weaved,This spinning carousel.

A hamper,

Yes.

Delight brought to

The teary eyes of


20/32

The children of my youth.

Everything had been

Peerless, a polygraph

Never so true.

Until I realized the trickery

Of actuality. Mean-

Spirited, an illusion.

Still once, I was content.

That night still speckled

Into my carpet thistles.

As ominous as it had

Become, it held safe.

My memories, fade inAnd out, between that

Day and now.

I've come to defend,

In a matter I've dared to attend.

The validly of this calamity,

My caress with the bog.

I slept with the mist..

I slept with the fog,A manifestation...

I digress..

A manifestation,

None the less.


21/32

these peoplewill one da

y die. (most of themalready did) the beat poem


22/32

The Beat PoemPart One

I have seen the sun

Shed through the basin.

The silence of eyeing out

The beast in the loch, the rising

Channels of libido corroding

Its carapace. Buzzwords

Describe the chance, the

Probability,

The random stare.

The telegrams screen your

Allurement, the blurring of your

Eyelashes in the subway. Parkway

-Drawn, These bones tell us

The night has turned upside

Down. The ache of the

Street-call, the enthralling

Breath of dusk.

--- Along time ago your dress

Was a pile of coal. Mining the

Capitalistic mantra, we've

Danced with it in the ballroom.

Pint's of The Father, materials

Of pure omnipotence. You've been

Blessed with this numen, youre raw

Beauty.

Comfort the wavelengths--- A pity for

Jesus's face. Your

Wooden cross

--- This necklace.

For years I

Have


23/32

Wondered

How you could

Wear it

When you play

With my hair.

That concupiscent

--- Stare. A

Bib of

Indulgence

In your

"Flower child"

--- Prayer.

A masquerade polity, this

One-sided love. MetaphoricIn all of its trials

And tribunal. The

World today, how lone

It has become. Back in the

Sixties we were playing

In Eden, but the towers

Have all but fell. Our trees,

They are stumps, our feet

Are also but stumps.Never moving, loss limbs,

A whimsical promise, but a

Prodigy in its own. Our love

Has literal importance,

The face of religion, smiles

Fondly. Amongst the undertow

The medallion still glows. Even

If the dreams of freedom have

Become blemished


24/32

Part Two

Al, has the statue of liberty

Fell between its own legs?

The island grows mechanicalLimbs, its wings of poultry

Send it to the USSR.

1. The cold war was a facade, an ode to the control of society

over the use of artificial fear

2. The cold war was not a facade, the warheads are coming down

to bring us peace.

Al, I was there in Geneva.

When the tension was alone.The red-telephone, line cut,

Dial tone constant. Al, I was

There when Ron raised his hand,

And spoke in tongues. The bear

Sat hungry, and it was brushed

Underneath the rug. I was there,

When everything was made alright.


25/32

gyrate around axis

6 steps to happiness

1. sleep2. sex

3. sex

4. sex

5. sex

6. sex


26/32

Gyrate Around Axis. Placed on a swivel.

Twine wrapped, an uneasiness

In my stomach.When I see your cheeks

Fluttered -----

This cardinal girl.

Picnic wrapped in

Plaided dreamscape.

Sapphire sky------------------

Unfold.

In my arms I hold,

Embryonic buzzFor you.

My dreamt love.

Prohibition

Swindles our loins,

Illusionary cannot

Feel

But I feel.

I long.

I wonder.I am.

Yet I am not. With youI might of been.

Rain: cataract.Ashen, coiled clouds,

Whirlwinds swoon.

Soon, I'll be gone

Blueness-trance,

Gyrate around axis.

And you will be gone

As well. Receding,

Lost abeyance. For us,

We walk for now.

Until then.


27/32

page left intentionally blank*My confession


28/32

My ConfessionPly back the velvet

Grassland, disport the mire thatLies beneath. Curtains that

Have encompassed the elastic

Choler of my forgery.

The reigns of the crimson

Temperance, her blood-less

Tears patch our divided

Conscience. An expos for

Midnight tales. For too long

Have we have sharedThis intertwined fable,

This mind-set: how we rely

On the insanity of men to

Let us know normality. For I

Have come to accept

The old world as a mistress.

Revisions of this module,

Is a flourishing endeavor.

How we are so close in stuffing

Our pockets filled with god. Lets

See to it that this Utopia

Turns through ruins.

A senseless causality, for

The love of the mother-country.

(The deers gallop in solitude along

A metallic plane. A few meters

Away there is a missile-silo swimming

In the shadows of the woodland.Flowers blossom along its irradiated gamut,

Train tracks shuffled around its neck --- adornment.

Its perch boasting a robin nest, while

Black flies pour out of its massive

3000ft beak, their stingers drenched

In radioactive atonement. )


29/32

How all of a sudden, the

Girl in my night-ware calls out.

"Awake from your dream,

The everyday-reality

Is spilling out blank-faced

Cruor. The taxmen have raced

Through the village square. The

Palace is set afire. Echos

Of conviction, the fraud

We have committed unto

Them. Their swords.

Their cold-grey swords."

Growth and decay, thePhilosophy, or yet, the will

Of nature. Our supermarket

Affair has been brought

To the eye of the lord. Judgment

Has taken the form of revelations.

A gavel to a blade, the jury,

The executioner. All reigns

Ahead, the demon eyes of

The skeleton bronco. TheirWhims drawn tight, their

Muse knotted and strung.

Plath, Whitman, where are you now?

The ink has dried up and the

Nameless have been named.

The old world is gone, a

Prostitute in the night. And

I have become Jack The Ripper.

So play to me, willHeaven open the skies

And take me to the

Depths? Into birth?

Or is all that awaits,

The middle of

Nothingness?


30/32

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Children stay silent

Don't bring me down that

Path. Your mother is tired

And the snow is falling down.

The empire is cut-throat,

The empire is a bottleneck.

The cap sealed tight and the

Oxygen can't get in

Carbon monoxide through the air

Filters. Relax, the taxman is

Coming to make it alright.

Go to sleep childrenThe taxman is coming

Everything is going to

Be alright.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


31/32

the world is splitting open at my feet

written in october of twenty twelve

a poetry collection by cole hayley

cover photo - cutting clouds

feminine speech

leucosia

a mute. a idiot

running around circles

film

the beat poem

gyrate around axis

my confession

to whoever is reading this, thank you for reading the world is splitting

open at my feet unto the end. give me a message and lets get coffee

sometime. colehayley.tumblr.com.


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all works are original pieces written by

cole hayley (colehayley.tumblr.com)

the world is splitting open at my feet

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