caress my spring wool of modest charm.
about this place
with slithering mould, dithering depths.
deeper and deeper with steeper regrets
hangs the idolised carcass
who suggests what we'd never confess;
a painted throat!
- contemporary art?-
red ink for a bluebell
a hammer and a quill
until all else remembered; it is all but to until;
show us your curves
your soft evening frills;
bleed with the dew on your new windowsill;
bleak with bleary eyes
on dead end string.
circles the footprints of nutritional crust
with eyebrows to paint. eyeballs to dust.
these floured beads of sweating bread
rising above all them and us;
wear this winter coat a day.
this feinted wool
with arthritic hands and denatured fangs
how quick we forget
that in days past she sang;
with my pitted olives. pitiful!.
this great beyond now not so great.
in stark contrast, the heaving bull
who weaves his silk with belly full.
was it he who once had spoke of her?
when she was once so beautiful;
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 11th, 2021 10:36
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
Offline)
Comments2
Nicely done, D.M.
thank you once again Jerry, very kind.
'wear this winter coat a day.
this feinted wool
with arthritic hands and denatured fangs
how quick we forget
that in days past she sang;'..
a great read, thanks for sharing dear poet
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