one trip to moon and back.
how different now this earth of frozen pollen.
hungry bees
once happy as a portrait on a breast,
now flies asleep as stitches
somewhere about a corner of a face;
a face beyond the comet of immune.
bad stars now sprung from cages
each heavy as a snow-plough,
crossed with Salem's knot
in boxes safer than a womb.
how soon before our fate and marble meet?
now drunk are we as skittles
in a spiders queue all merry as a lamb.
Sunday baits our taste-buds
and a hundred gods of no good use
belching hymns of solitaire and ham,
to cross our palms with sentiment and spit;
no more unique.
one as much as otherwise another.
one tree felled
another mouthpiece shouts un-recognised;
to moon and back.
from mannequin to custard;
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 15th, 2023 09:18
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments2
No matter how far we come there is always something holding us back. ❤️ a fabulous rendition of a darker side. ❤️
there is indeed Teddy.
thank you;
Powerful I love your use of language.
kind words Thomas.
many thanks.
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