just one piece,
and not one penny more.
it is well hidden, seldom seen
this distortion of the skull. this manifest
where rests long lock of hair.
good vibes to share
these knuckles hunched like glands
floating carbon-free
through a forest of the goading wood.
hoodwinked, the forskin's hands
so do they shake and flake
the almond trees
whose shaven legs beg heat
no more of else.
no pines with needles
strumming coral's verse.
bleached eyes now white
as Sunday tripe
the first bite is the cleaner
second stomach of a cow
no reprieve. all hours have no glass.
no miracle's for question's asked.
each task yet undertaken
free enterprise. white bishop. crooked knight.
each table under quilt
through fading light;
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Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 25th, 2024 11:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments3
Awesome
thank you Tony.
I appreciate that.
You're welcome
Wow there is a game of chess in this one. How very poetic love the last stanza it's so powerful. 🌹
a game of chess, a game I cannot work out Teddy.
if baffles me!
but still I try.
thank you once again my friend.
Beautiful use of language.
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