We've paved our relationship with molten brick;
then tied our fingers against thunderstruck trees
while prudent street dogs spat selfish lyrics
and served lightly-salted soliloquies.
I cried starshine into your emerald arms,
so you could become the meaningful whisper I'll never hear.
I fell for faithless, plastic charms
in rooms that smelled like smoke, white oak and beer.
Our hearts became rocket ships tied to ribbons,
one crawling on an overstuffed belly; always too far behind
like the sons and daughters of Elias Fitzgibbons
who said we would wed us on Tuesday, that holy bind.
Wicked felt-tipped pens, forging "I love yous."
were like deadswept petals of blueish hues.














Comments
--
46&2justaheadofme
I cried starshine into your emerald arms,
so you could become the meaningful whisper I'll never hear
--
Every passing moment is another chance to turn it all around
but the further you fall the farther you'll fly.
[link]
--
-- I'm a lead farmer, motherfucker! --
--
Every passing moment is another chance to turn it all around
but the further you fall the farther you'll fly.
[link]
I love your play on realistic words in unrealistic situations to represent realistic instances in life! You're poetry makes my brain excited!
--
This is a signature, enjoy yourself
- (((Denny)))
I'm glad!
--
-- I'm a lead farmer, motherfucker! --
--
The precious moments are lost in the tide.
--
-- I'm a lead farmer, motherfucker! --
--
The precious moments are lost in the tide.
Previous Page123Next Page