made up of this and that;
like a river through a vase
I bare no grudge to witness such a whyle
as happy as a carpet-bag
richer than the twisted limbs of tapestry and ice;
within these walls
waterfalls of brunette blood
locking horns my four walls of austere.
a pregnant sea's fine art of photographs.
intrusion much as media alike;
outside a great beyond
one world. one man. no other
no brother through the cycle of the heir
to push beyond a boundary upheld.
a mother-load of cliches
as idle as I am beyond compare;
my terracotta bed of introvert
pepper-green. heavier than air
I dream with tangerine of Phaedra's love
kissing through uncertainty
one hundred shades of nuance
through a muzzled dialect.
made up of this and that
within these walls
too many nights
the silent one resides;
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 5th, 2023 12:05
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments2
Superb work my friend.
most kind Thomas
Beautiful ❤️
thank you my friend.
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