No Pain No Gain

Quemis

Promise me the piety of perfect pulsing pain

Press patience to pestilence
Pepper poison rain

Puncture every pillar poised in point to pleasures perch

Plaster every pretense
Prophesize the search

Policy so practical profoundly paves the way

Pray to pilfered poignancy
Prove the past can play

  • Author: Quemis (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 29th, 2020 22:52
  • Comment from author about the poem: ...
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 16
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Comments2

  • jarcher54

    A good old Anglo-Saxon alliterative rune, fit to be carved on a mossy sarsen half-buried in the back country to be discovered and pondered over some day by amateur archeologists from a local college or by a lot of lost girl scouts on a walkabout. I can't decide if the idea drives the words, or the words create ideas here, but you fit the words together like stones on a drystane wall.

    • Quemis

      This comment itself is poetry.

      Thank you so much. What a great aesthetic.

    • L. B. Mek

      no 'P' words were harmed in the formulation of this write, lol
      good read

      • Quemis

        lololol thank you Mek



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