the world is all but one mile high.
with fourteen stars as bright as lilacs
circling the eyeballs of the sun.
there is no way out.
behind closed doors
all oceans now sit silent
with the broken bones of harbour walls
scattering their ashes
like confetti on the headstone of a dam.
we are all now lost in childhood dreams.
we are wrapped in mortal flames
as crude as oil
as naked as a sandstorm
heading south to where the thorns reside
neatly packed in sardine cans
circling their prey.
all mountains come and go.
like strangers lost
one sentence at time.
ancient days where once our salt
showed very little sorrow
now dries the spines of hollow leaves
no modern man dare follow.
our lives now ice
as cold as cotton
drier than the second week in May.
too early comes the darkness.
this is pantomime.
where our clouds rain only cattle prods
and usher us to sleep.
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Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 25th, 2026 07:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
A sorrowful and dark poem. Your poem presents a surreal and dystopian vision of the world, exploring themes of loss, childhood innocence, and existential despair. It conveys a sense of entrapment in a reality where nature is juxtaposed with human-made structures and societal constraints. The imagery suggests a world that has lost its vitality and connection to its origins, resulting in a bleak existence marked by silence and despair.
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