MY FIVE-FIVE-FINGERS
I
My five-five-fingers of my hands
Zestfully lived In serenity.
The three thrill fingers of my right hand:
Thumb, index finger and middle finger
Stoutly lived civilly and gleefully
Amongst her BROTHERS:
They rested gleefully upon the placid,
SHARP-SABLE-POINTED-DART.
II
Sharp-sable pointed-dart;
Perched in the midst of the three thrill fingers
And laid rest upon the hungry,
Virgin...
Wednesday 7th December 2016 11:41 am
Recent Comments
Stephen Gospage on The Final Goodbye.
7 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on Do You Remember The Worst Time?
18 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on The Bright Blue Sky
24 minutes ago
Philip Stevens on This Imaginary Life-Part 3 (Nature)
13 hours ago
Nigel Astell on June 2025 Collage Poem: I Watched the Trains Come, I Watched the Trains Go
20 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
1 day ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
1 day ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
1 day ago