CreationGlue strung eyes peeled back like pages, As hot white breath made their premiere, Streaming over new warm human lungs.Creation
That orchestral scream which filled white walls, Made them dance with colour, When the ribbon was cut.
Singing like howling wolves flooded, Covering sterilised corners with the beasts. A stream of newly formed flesh.
Fingers curled round ancestral hope, As reddish flowers closed, Cleansed by new life.
DiseaseThe cruelty in snatching of limbs, Sneaked under the door like napalm, Her lip not matching the cup's Solid in snickering spite,Disease
Gritted teeth couldn't empower, Struggling silence through her bones, Only bearing the branch turned sour, Growing inevitably in gnarly drones.
HeatBreath reaching darkened corners In slow dead moving folds Bodies laced, slickened in turn Through time and pace, faster.Heat
Anticipation prickled through us from the carpet Rising like moss coloured sweat Toes curling, palms are racing and Teeth bite down smooth skin.
She was nearest, never was quite the same Edited and unpicked. Time was still and pink blood rose through. He left her under wraps.
The problem with artistry and literature is
Artistic
I'm pleased you liked Hero.
Thanks very much for the
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
--
"A sense of falling, like an arrow-shower
Sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain" Larkin (Whitsun Weddings 1964)
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
--
"A sense of falling, like an arrow-shower
Sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain" Larkin (Whitsun Weddings 1964)
--
My heart strings have gone slack, you'll have to pull harder than that.
--
"A sense of falling, like an arrow-shower
Sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain" Larkin (Whitsun Weddings 1964)
--
Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver!
--
Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver!
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