by night's secluded light
black rook of more a latter day escape.
at home among the daisy chains
with my leeopard spots and the beauty of a yawn.
I have come home ill-prepaired
my mothers milk in uniform
from a waterfall
she was as tall as I was white
hip hip hooray!
again I take no blood
nor do I suckle honey
from your frozen breasts of honeycomb and chives.
flowers but no butterflies
no doomsday priest
with water in his lung.
it is November, I am hungry.
am now aware of a mother's wilderness.
she politely asked I cut my throat
in her room with smiles as bright as death allows.
her blue whale bones
her blue veins breathing treacle through a straw.
what more I ask of Elizabeth now gone?
she is still here
still-born in an annexe made of wax.
her yellow stain of Autumn
be gone before the ending of a year.
I have less courage than the jesus you aniont
with my bipolar walking home from church.
should I be caught by the ten pins of your lair
brush you hair
and kiss your forehead
twenty thousand times!
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 23rd, 2024 11:48
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments3
A most interesting collection of disjointed thoughts that often occur in my own mind. Many of these appear to have deeper meaning. A lovely write that give many ideas
Powerful work. Chilling imagery.
Sinking into the hollow or drowning comes to mind, so very powerful and your imagery well, always so original. Wonderful poetry dear Melvin. 🌹
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