no deeper than a six
half-dead as poets
tobacco brown
more imperial than a thousand frosts of time;
no walls to hide the Autumn from the eye
of sorrow lame
crawling with a Pheasant
through astrology and rhyme;
this song that sings to nowhere
bible black
voices from Argyle to sweet anon
pepper-green
for the sweet smell of a Rose to walk upon;
all things as this
one substance from the colours of the brave
the beauty of the marker
slave to Master
Mistress to amphetamine
digging deep our secrets to a grave;
as pure as penicillin
one substance lacking taste
from a god of China
barking with a postmark
with her cinnamon and paste;
no heavy heart
score years no less than money up a tree
in monkeys stomach
as pale as he abandoned
in our Ezra's very own Sargasso sea.
murder me a lime
suggest I prove no more all what is mine;
you are you
in petticoat and plaster.
I and I
beneath your stars
to Hell of ever after.
melancholy not
the powers of a word.
what treasures are our own
that we should swear on oath as lovers should?
half me
half Sycamore.
you are you
pulling flowers
deeper than a six;
I have loved you twice already
with the fruits of summer mixed;
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 30th, 2023 14:03
- Category: Love
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments2
Brilliant. Again, you amaze me. Thomas W. Case amazed...wow. Here's the thing, you take flash snapshots and create mood, fucking smells, sounds tastes. You bring memory flooding back like the rose colored coat my mom had on the day she died, the smell of cigarettes and tuna casserole....frozen clothes on the clothesline. I had to take down after i picked up my car from the grocery store that she died in....genius. You take the reader right to the heart of the poem, if he has heard sound...
Phenomenal Sir.
I am very taken by such a comment Thomas;
very touching words.
thank you;
Amazing imagery and filled with emotions tragic and less so by the end your last lines are fabulous ❤️
thank you Teddy.
much appreciated, as always.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.