who's keeping this alive?
the still one born by accident
a cyclone as an image in the eye
white feathers deep
as deep as dares the green coins of austere.
no enemy defined
no logic of despair dares otherwise.
as if between two candles and a heart
departed dears
mundane by the very being of
a red and white regime
castrated in a pill-box in an alligators jaw
no straw have I to second guess
or climb the seven mouths
where rests the very reason all is still.
a poem for three voices
no plague yet defines this smiling world
no smiling mouths of cardboard, as pretty as a ship
benign but still with cancer in it's sails
I am all who boards the surface of a spoon.
staid or otherwise
wine bottle-lamps of valentines
above all this
my everest a death I dare conceal.
no right has winter stare my summer down!
but summer's old
it has no chrome
no walrus with a ripple in it's spine.
a rack of ribs,
it is all I see
this Monday of a mind
as same as any other
my mind. my rock.
my tongue, my iron lung.
be done. be done. be done.
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 10th, 2024 12:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments5
A kaleidioscopic view that changes with each read. Rearranging patterns that melt into each other forming new patterns.
I enjoyed the read and the re-read and i will read again, i am seeing something different on each read, thank you
Mysterious but enchanting write, DM.
A battle of the toughest, I see the need to let go or to hold on tight for life. dear Melvin, your poetry of late has an extraordinary beauty and I just see so many things in this. 🌹
A wonderful, beautiful, multi-layered poem that rewards multiple reads. I have seen many say that very thing...because it's true! Well done, dear Melvin! Well done! 🌹👏🖤
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