notepad poems (i regrettably, probably wrote)
(i)
rising off the table
ether fumes
mute yesterday's voice
giving birth to the future's tongue
rejoice
rejoice
for a poetic cunnilingus king is born in bedlam.
southern cross hanging
above the cradle of mankind
shining brighter than pit of kimberlite mines
hollow space inflated
breathing life into language's diaphragm.
preaching poetic alchemy
& fashioning blood into ink
pound for pound no illusionist would dare
take on the wordsmith with butterfly fused bee sting verse.
(ii)
smoke rises,
seeping through scattered torn limbs
among rubble, shards of glass
and melting plastic dolls.
under the waning crescent moon
the closing chapter opened a new book.
Begorrah!
Deborah, the queen honey bee
has flown off
leaving behind her hive,
ditching the colony
death to her family!
(iii)
in a field of sunflowers engulfed by flames
a blazing tower of hellfire
fanned higher by the chemical rain.
asteroids crashed into volcanoes
as magma shot exploding
a sea of lava rose bubbling
burning through the landing.
Icelandic clouds of ash soaked into the sky
blanketing & blacking out sunlight
casting a shadow of suffocating night
over the field unyielding to morning.
curtain curtail
darkness dulls bright
we wait for a dragon to fight the dying of night.
(i)
rising off the table
ether fumes
mute yesterday's voice
giving birth to the future's tongue
rejoice
rejoice
12h ago
Rob_Bruwer
notepad poems (i regrettably, probably wrote)
(i)
rising off the table
ether fumes
mute yesterday's voice
giving birth to the future's tongue
rejoice
rejoice
for a poetic cunnilingus king is born in bedlam.
southern cross hanging
above the cradle of mankind
shining brighter than pit of kimberlite mines
hollow space inflated
breathing life into language's diaphragm.
preaching poetic alchemy
& fashioning blood into ink
pound for pound no illusionist would dare
take on the wordsmith with butterfly fused bee sting verse.
(ii)
smoke rises,
seeping through scattered torn limbs
among rubble, shards of glass
and melting plastic dolls.
under the waning crescent moon
the closing chapter opened a new book.
Begorrah!
Deborah, the queen honey bee
has flown off
leaving behind her hive,
ditching the colony
death to her family!
(iii)
in a field of sunflowers engulfed by flames
a blazing tower of hellfire
fanned higher by the chemical rain.
asteroids crashed into volcanoes
as magma shot exploding
a sea of lava rose bubbling
burning through the landing.
Icelandic clouds of ash soaked into the sky
blanketing & blacking out sunlight
casting a shadow of suffocating night
over the field unyielding to morning.
curtain curtail
darkness dulls bright
we wait for a dragon to fight the dying of night.
