a paragraph of sadness
on paper thin as rice of zero cause.
molehill of physalis for the birthday bride
now slowly slants her eyes confetti deep
to the valley of her spleen
through candle's light of liquid
to the scalp of Old Trafalger
with a beetles pride on a foam of satin sea;
all flame of flesh
no words of gentle men from the stinging bone.
her christ one piece of metal on a tongue.
surrogate thoughts of rhyming slang and elm.
food to mouth on a cloth of scrim
a plague as blunt as oranges
on a whims capricious notion of desire.
now bleeds her tattoo'd heart of Rembrandt's love.
(his denial of st peter)
once death has gone
where else her soul to shine and rise above?
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Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: May 17th, 2024 11:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Online)
Comments2
Tremendous writing. Powerful.
thank you Thomas
Melvin, your last stanza is phenomenal dear Poet. Love this. 🌹
thank you Teddy.
most kind.
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