how fickle the pickled rose in its' orchard grave
slave to the abandoned eyes through blanket trees
pleasing to the blinkered heart of a superficial heirloom hanging still
six miles shy of a camels' back
once thirsty for the tortutured thorns disfigured gut
that once ripped through the veins of my wrist;
sunshine on the flowered bed where once crept a black lungs bride
guided to the churchyard landfills ever increasing populas of high intense demands
bemused only by the untimely death of my impotent hands
as the glands of the scurrying April rain massage the temples of my brood
with its' nondeclarative passages from the drunken throat of a Sunday morning tramp;
samphire smoke from the vampires' crystal ball
bites through the secret desires of my lust for the rusting clerics' smalls
to satisfy my curiousity - and satisfy once more-
my love for a dead disciples spleen
to pick through the bones of its' deranged and troubled dirt
and when he runs with gay abandon through the sinews of my neck
I will lay beside my one true love
and tell her where it hurts;
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 7th, 2021 14:08
- Category: Love
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments1
that's a very striking image on the video 'cover':
a skeleton, blackened monkey face
with black gloves and hoody
all within a black n white video...
ok, well I hope
this weaponization of artistry
gives you the world, you want to curate..
I kinds feel, dispirited
once more, at myself
for choosing to believe
there's more good than bad
when the abundance of malicious idiocy
tells me different, every gruelling step
of my unwavering climb...
just sad, on so many levels... really
not my finest hour L B Meck, but we can only write with the mind we have at any one time;
and death does play a large part of our lives.
sadly, I could'nt get to the hospice in time to say goodbye to someone very dear to me, and was feeling very guilty and angry with myself for not being there with her.
I thought the video and song matched my write very well, but that's only my opinion.
I do see the good things in life, I just choose to write about the not so good.
I have no choice...my mind controls my pen, not my heart;
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