A wrinkle of mine grew
beyond common wisdom
a divine proposition;
each road taken drawn
upon one’s face.
A younger one uncharted
the elders well-traveled;
unborn within the queue.
:: 03.07.2020 ::
A wrinkle of mine grew
beyond common wisdom
a divine proposition;
each road taken drawn
upon one’s face.
A younger one uncharted
the elders well-traveled;
unborn within the queue.
:: 03.07.2020 ::
Leave a comment | tags: #abstract, #metaphor, #self, #short, #surrealism, #time, #wrinkles | posted in #abstract, #poets, #words
I was a flower
and the wind
tore my petals
then I dreamed
the river me
but a dam shored
all my beauty
against the wall
So now I dream
that I am human
but there is more
I have no walls
and my petals
are legs and arms
What will you
tear apart
life is so
murderously life
I cry love-die
but for an instant
that taste i ate
and it made me
so very happy
a slice of nirvana
becomes me…
:: 02-24-2014 ::
2 Comments | tags: #life, #metaphor, #pain, #poem, #poetry, #suffering, #surrealism | posted in Poetry, Surrealism
| EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE | |
| Adam Fisher on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE | |
| EPRobles on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… | |
| R. Marshall on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… | |
| Stefan on ECSTASIES OF THE REPULSIV… |