Filth by the side of water’s end,

Greatest son forgotten,

Drown again!


Your arms around me,

The water does not rise,

The betrothed pause in mystified night.


Walk in shallowing fields,

Mud and grease lifts seeds from the sediment,

My forgotten son may rise again.


Visceral and delinquent,

Eyes match the shaded robes,

Washing off what were once clothes.

◄ Continue On

Goodnight ►


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adrian metcalf

Fri 12th Apr 2019 03:05

Tom: thank you for your kind words.

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adrian metcalf

Fri 12th Apr 2019 03:05

Hi Dorothy, thank you very much for your kind words. I focus very much on the feel of my poetry by purely just the inflection of the words and imagery. So i'm very greatful for your recognition ?

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Wed 10th Apr 2019 10:52

Very intriguing and well written - thanks for sharing.

<Deleted User> (21487)

Tue 9th Apr 2019 15:29

I am not sure if I undersand this one but i like the 'sound of it' and I like the 'read of it'.
It leaves me thinking and i would like to know more. Job done.

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adrian metcalf

Mon 8th Apr 2019 19:15

Thank you very much ?

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Martin Elder

Mon 8th Apr 2019 15:21

This is quite a sharp one Adrian and certainly gets the little grey cells working.
Nice one

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