Poetry Blogs (Internal)
I am keeping a secret with myself
clutching it within like a bird’s claw,
the carrier pigeons have been shot,
guess I forgot to warn the men with rifles,
suppose it wasn’t a clay pigeon after all.
My mouth is a gold crested envelope,
my lips are licked with wax:
they are an inked kiss,
the pout is the stamp,
my mind is the scroll:
bound and bound,
Tuesday 10th July 2018 2:23 pm
Make me think that the world runs smoother
When all focus
Is on leather and sweat and stink.
Glorious odor that makes the mobius strip slow.
And Ouroborus is Self Fellatio.
My leading member drags me through pigeoned glory holed thoughts.
And I lose
The consideration of purpose
and other abstracts
such as longevity and sustainability in flesh a...
Friday 8th September 2017 6:55 pm
The curtains a cocoon
which I have outgrown
though I dare not venture out
my wings maimed
by an internal eternity.
Some days they open
as the sunlight shines
and snow falls
yet it remains a parallel world
a door to an unfamiliar universe
Even inside plates pile up
like a porcelain possum
Monday 21st January 2013 1:36 pm