amateur (Remove filter)
Habits
We all have out tipple of choice, mine
i sip.
It's potent breath intertwines with mine
filling my lungs with pleasure.
Satisfying all of my dreams and desires.
I swig,
as my words become dizzy, muddled.
Phosphene eyes to match. Spirits,
lifted.
A wonderful serendipity,
i am free.
I gulp,
my mouth runs away with me, legs
unable.
The clock strikes, it's hand jittery
face wobbling.
Friday 16th December 2016 7:00 pm
Recent Comments
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
1 hour ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
17 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
18 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
21 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
21 hours ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
21 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
21 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
23 hours ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
23 hours ago
Ray Miller on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
23 hours ago