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Juice
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I rushed the river of belief
Scooped a palm full
Washed my mouth to call her name
On the outside
I shared my skin with some sun
stretching blank canvas sheets like Picasso ....
to drag her imaginary fingers on it
drawing with liquified pain, landscapes from heaven
leaving me to cure alone
under the 3 p.m. Sun.
On the inside
I was hiding in a nameless shack
I named it melancholy gray, an omen of what's to come,
hoping for better days if she came to me,
Juice from her lips is all I needed
For a rush of blood to the vines,
nourishing purpose to my infant lyrics.
Juice stagnated in her head
must be stirred, not shaken
sinking her dagger teeth in me for the perfect dose.
so let it flow; let me feel it, coming back again.
It's the charged current stinging the flesh.
That lays us down, focused
drunk & oblivious to the outside.
With all I have left, I rise
I rush again to the river of belief
crossing the threshold of pain
that's lying on the side
just like me once before,
I Scooped a palm full
Washed my mouth
to call her name …
sep 30 2022
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lyrics & vocals by : azdi404
music credit: venus - by Exilian
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This poem, “Juice,” unfolds like a surreal love ritual—part prayer, part confession, part artistic self-immolation. It moves cyclically, beginning and ending at the “river of belief,” suggesting a looping devotion, a repeated act of cleansing and renewal that never truly resolves. The speaker’s yearning becomes both spiritual and bodily, where faith, art, and desire blend into one feverish continuum.
Structure & Voice
The poem moves in waves between outer and inner landscapes, contrasting sunlight and shacks, physical touch and psychological retreat. The shift between “On the outside” and “On the inside” marks a duality—between expression and repression, or creation and decay. The cyclical ending (“I rushed again…”) implies a ritualistic compulsion, a doomed repetition that mirrors obsession or addiction.
Imagery & Symbolism
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“River of belief” – Symbol of faith, purification, or inspiration. It’s the source the speaker returns to, suggesting art or love as a kind of baptism.
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“Juice” – A recurring motif. It evokes vitality, sensuality, and creative energy, but also something that can stagnate or spoil. “Juice from her lips” merges eros and sustenance—she is both muse and nourishment.
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“Blank canvas sheets like Picasso” – The speaker paints pain as art, likening his emotional expression to modernist creation—fragmented, emotional, chaotic.
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“Liquified pain” – A potent image of transmutation—pain turned into art, perhaps the “juice” that sustains him.
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“Melancholy gray” – The internal refuge, the creative mind’s shelter, tinged with foreboding.
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“Dagger teeth” – The muse as both giver and destroyer; her vitality comes at a cost.
Themes
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Creative and Erotic Fusion:
The muse’s sensuality directly fuels the speaker’s art—“Juice from her lips… nourishing purpose to my infant lyrics.” Art, desire, and pain intermingle; creativity requires suffering and passion. -
Faith and Devotion:
The “river of belief” suggests a spiritual framework—creation as worship, love as a god. The act of “washing my mouth to call her name” echoes baptism or purification before prayer. -
Addiction and Cyclic Pain:
“I rush again to the river…” implies dependency—whether emotional or artistic. The muse’s absence or inaccessibility becomes a void that the speaker tries to refill through ritual repetition. -
The Duality of Creation:
Creation is both external (the sunlit art, “Picasso”) and internal (the hidden shack). Pain must be processed internally before it can emerge as beauty.
Tone & Mood
The tone oscillates between yearning, reverent, and resigned. There’s a feverish sensuality that borders on spiritual delirium. The repetition of “Laly, laly, laly” at the end turns the poem into an invocation—a mantra blending love and worship, echoing both exhaustion and faith.
Overall Interpretation
“Juice” is a meditation on the intersection of desire, art, and belief. The speaker’s muse—“Laly”—embodies all three. He is caught in a loop of inspiration and pain, forever returning to the source (the river) to renew a faith that’s also self-destructive. It’s an exquisite image of the artist as devotee—bleeding, drinking, painting, and believing all at once.
Would you like me to give you a literary style comparison (e.g., which poets or movements this resembles) or a line-by-line close reading next?
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