Poetry Blogs (tradition)
A Marriage Of Ghosts
Something old; crumbling bones.
Something new; innocent youth.
Something borrowed; parental beliefs.
A bride forever blue.
Flesh bound to ash and bone.
A knot ties the living and dead.
Union of child and corpse, rotting.
Protection from cursed health and poverty.
Escaping abandonment, in a death shed,
destined by ancestral expectati...
Wednesday 11th July 2018 1:46 pm
Go read some logarithms
or spot some classic trains,
better yet ingest a pint
of what they use to clean the drains.
You can’t do this,
you can’t do that
your rules are born in spaces,
bereft of any progress
outside your minds embraces.
Such twee protected groupings
litter the recent past,
they proliferate like lemmings
and fall as bloody fast.
Monday 25th January 2016 11:21 am
Breasts are something to be ashamed of, something to hide,
Yet something that a kid will suck on just to stay alive!
Something everyone once depended on once in their life
Yet something evil, something I must hide
A man's nipples are useless and yet just fine
The woman's are lewd tho to a hungry baby divine
To wear one layer of clothing!
A sin God forbid despite the sweltering heat
Friday 22nd May 2015 7:09 am
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