From voices of insistent waves
and from a fragment of your sleepless sea
we built on clay and bones this bloodless emptiness —
our house behind a veil of my withdrawing sins.
My skin is stretched across these concrete dreams
and from the East its mouth has gnawed the void
we try in vain to fill with vapid words.
But still your speech is filled with bloom
a tempting knife to fill the streets with smoke.
Briey (Concrete Cabin) by Peter Doig
The wordlist from Grapeling at toads come from various Neruda poems. I used most of them. I wanted to create the surreal feeling of living in a suburb.
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May 8, 2015
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Ooh, I like this, Bjorn. Yes, the suburbs are filled with houses, pretty houses. But many of them are empty in spirit, their chatter is only “vapid words.”
I learned a new five letter word today from you, “Vapid”. Thank you, I hope it will remain in my speaking and writing vocabulary. Thank you again.
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There was a surprise for me. I had gone ahead and was planning on the streets being filled with blood spewing from the knife. Instead you had it issuing smoke. Haha.
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Luv your on point images but particularly
“My skin is stretched across these concrete dreams”
much love…
You’ve created a surreal image..perfectly… 🙂
Nicely done; makes me want to stay put in the countryside!
tee is an epic flow to your words as they pile one on top of another -there’s nothing vapid about your writing here.
Hey Bjorn–I grew up in the suburbs! They had their good sides–roller skating! biking! But your poem brings up the anger and isolation, and those things may be more piercing now. Thanks. k.
I grew up in the suburbs as well… but at least from a Swedish perspective, the suburb largely consists of big apartment complexes.. many of them built in the 60s.. there are some very nice suburban areas as well 🙂
I am sure! Thanks. k.
This is one alluring piece of work..! So very emotive 😀
xoxo
This is superb. It’s my favorite of the day, thus far.
I love this: “we built on clay and bones” How haunting, to build your relationship on a metaphorical cemetery. Or a literal one!
This line is powerful: “our house behind a veil of my withdrawing sins”
Many tanks…
Living in the suburbs, or living in hell–or are they much the same? Wonderful imagery in this, Bjorn.
“My skin is stretched across these concrete dreams” Love that line. I sense the melancholy ownership of truth.
You had me at your title, and then such vivid images within. Awesome.
Interesting images you have created here….I like the skin stretched…around dreams and having a mouth…..which ‘we’ trying to fill with vapid words….feels like abstract painting, Bjorn!
I especially love “my skin is stretched across these concrete dreams.”
This is roiling with richness and this line captured my attention especially, “But still your speech is filled with bloom,” I really like the visual of that…actual blooms flowing from the one speaking…hmmm…Thank you, Bjorn.
The first two lines in the second stanza are just incredible. And yes, you have succeeded, brilliantly, in imbuing the suburbs with surrealism.
Such powerful imagery… a house built on a questionable foundation behind a devious view.
Um… dubious, not “devious”, lol!
I’d repeat back the entire poem with praise, but instead will just focus on the 2nd and 3rd lines from the 2nd stanza – the alliteration of V and the W’s works so well here. thanks for adding your voice, Bjorn ~
we built on clay and bones this bloodless emptiness… heck… i think you did capture the surreal atmosphere in such places well…
‘the surreal feeling of living in a suburb’ — I like your comment almost as much as the striking poem.
There is a kind of hyper realism to your imagery, where the abstract becomes a new way of looking at a familiar scene.
Vapid words are such empty words, and hopefully there are some suburbs in which one can find more than the surreal.
Suburbs are not for everyone. Well done, Bjorn. 🙂 — Suzanne