steadfast into another world
it is there I breathe as canterbury tales.
exiled as one bereaved by jealously
there are no end of means this travelogue
each stage as bright as I among the fleeing antelope
now both are real
we two sons' carved from stone
at home among the mongrels
where the gold-men syphon blood from my spiders knees.
all apples leave their mark
this side of life where the smallest cities sleep.
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Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 19th, 2024 13:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 48
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments6
Bravo dear Melvin, always magnificent I'm imagery and in authenticity loving your final lines. Powerful 🌹
bless you my dear friend
Marked with symbolism this poem is a deeper read. Nicely done
most kind soren, as always.
Bravo
very much appreciated Tony
You're welcome
Wonderfully symbolic and filled with profound imagery! Love the Canterbury Tales reference. Great job!
many thanks Tristian
most kind.
Gives cause to ponder any number of things. Brothers cast in stone? Great.
most kind Dan.
thank you.
A deep and thought provoking poem.
steadfast into another world
exiled
we two sons’ carved from stone
(brothers)
I am left to ponder on the other world.
Intriguing write poet.
.
as kind as always Cassie.
many thanks.
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