somewhere between
my belvedere of yet unopened wounds
a brace of pheasants hanging on a whim.
am less curious now
my fortress stands on mercury and dust.
arc angels come and go, all neatly packed
dead nettles resting weary with the ordinary rank.
only three more days
to pass the time and flower like a ball
to roll my eyes somewhere inside
the open jars of flannels
for the cleansing hands of rich and yellow corn.
the dead shall rise once more
with tempers dull enough
to cross the palms of ridicule with spit.
my very own gravesend
it's iron's strong enough
to hold the seeds of a suicidal wren
grey-breasted with a thirst for oolong tea.
one final taste of mercy washed away.
three day's away when all will be revealed
somewhere between
my belvedere of yet unopened wounds.
my wren and I together
forever in our very own gravesend
until death do us apart
though we have only ever loved
as premature and tempermental friends.
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: August 11th, 2024 05:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 35
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Teddy.15
Online)
Comments6
Now here is a piece with metaphoric quicksand so attractive that it shines in its own darkness. Knowing certain death I hypnotically with full free will march into its certain death. Such great lines in this poem they shine reflecting my ignorance of their meaning but sufficient to revel in their beauty. Nicely done
thank you very much Soren.
your kind words greatly appreciated, as always.
Amazing lines dear Melvin, and as you have always done you bring your poem to a magnificent end,
I'd like to leave some favourite lines that I just think magnificent
to roll my eyes somewhere inside
the open jars of flannels
for the cleansing hands of rich and yellow corn.
the dead shall rise once more
with tempers dull enough
to cross the palms of ridicule with spit.
my very own gravesend
it's iron's strong enough
to hold the seeds of a suicidal wren
Kudos my dear friend.
thank you once again Teddy.
always pleased to hear from you my friend.
Well it's certainly sounds dark.
A kind of unravelling I sense.
But then again, I haven't got a clue!
Intriguing though.
thank you for dropping by, and your kind comment.
always appreciated.
WOW
and deeply touched by your one word Tony...
thank you very much.
You're welcome
Superb work.
cheers Thomas
"palms of ridicule with spit" and "one final taste of mercy washed away" highlight a powerful yet poignant write. Nice work.
thank you for your most kind words Dan.
very much appreciated.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.