Treasure Island

john wake

(mombasa, kenya)


Ashes slashes bashes
Boom, blasts to blame
All dudes and dinettes dash
As the flames
Flicking, felt on the skin
All its humor served to patrons who were in.

Deep, deep
Lies souls in the black sand
All the “after people” peep
But the black soot dress
Made for coal
Worn when they, terror, reach their goal.

Blasts, bang!
Bleach, the walls, black
Let him hang
Like lovers we lack
Stealing a crime,
But blame without a case
Cannot erase
Only a fair fight, law at its prime.

Submitted: Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Edited: Tuesday, November 01, 2011

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  • Dave Walker (11/1/2011 4:29:00 AM)

    really liked it. a great poem with a beautiful flow to it.
    may i invite you to read my new poem called, family of lies. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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