beneath a shade of 3 o'clock


from the centre of an arc

the wood that paints it's colours of a child.

through the grotto of a stain

where somewhere else sees far between a maul;


no spattered blood

to swim Lands End

on the back end of a nine

where heels the monarch

stuffed with horse's tail of bigotry;


to the safe side of a rock

alone as two

unsettled nerves with mouths of black and gold

feeding on the liver of a cow.

thick-skinned these cellars breathe

high above the octave of a throat;


on the fat side of the meat

we breed like camels

 on the flip-side of a coins degenerate.

each astute with a belly-full of sand

what god wants, god gets.

bugger all 

now the desert spits out love and drips it's red;


where no flower breaks the soil.

neither cloth nor cry

for mother of my surrogate surprise

with her voice of cloves

banging with the vampire of carousel and cream.

what do I now

deep beneath a shade of 3 o'clock?






  • Author: Melvin James (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 25th, 2023 13:22
  • Category: Love
  • Views: 8
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  • Ellen Marsell

    "what do I now
    deep beneath a shade of 3 o'clock?"
    Some extraordinary impression after reading it. You just sit in a daze and then read it again.
    That's great!

  • aDarkerMind

    thank you Ellen.

    very kind.

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