in my sunday morning mews
with views of summers after-thought
through second-hand confetti in a ball.
am in a lemon sorbet mood
where cuts the cringe of northern lights
my tongue alive with wishes
of an oriental flame.
a gentle breeze of metaphors
too many words that fail my brittle tones
I am all but one. a braver man than this.
there are people here with enigmatic smiles
who wile away my hours
through trials and tribulations
to run amok left-handed on my face.
it is bright enough to hunt the cobra down
drown his spitting sorrows
where the white rooks feed their off-spring
a taverns blood-and-treackle through a sting.
the breeze now raw as meat on smoking wood
that lights my mind the circle of a crab
it is dreary. it is drab.
it tastes of blood I haven't met before.
it is time to march
with compass to the cross
and pray no buggers hand-me-downs
drown my spine in a knuckle-full of ice.
this beauty of a pact.
a perfect match of love and cigarettes
two lungs in love on a bed of alkaloid.
I only fall from grace one year in every three.
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 16th, 2024 02:19
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments3
Some incredible lines here. Every line a poetic treat. Lovely.
thank you Cassie.
kind words very much appreciated.
Wow!!
Powerful penning
poet, strong
feelings and
thoughts eloquently
expressed, poetic
perfection throughout
each line!!
Have a grrrr8
Sunday!
Best regards ✌️. Thad
most kind Thad..thank you.
you have a great Sunday as well my friend.
The very essence of the bitter sweet in life. Beautifully done my dear Melvin. 🌹
thank you Teddy.
for all your support and very kind words.
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