I dream about your eye all day
If we are together or apart
I dream of wrapping my fingers around it
squirting the last drops from your cold dead heart.
I think how a gentle pencil intrusion
Might lengthen your bat-like sight
Maybe not, but I'd have the satisfaction
to block out its ice blue light
Perhaps I would pluck it right out of your head
while your eyelid sagged and fluttered
I could make an incision with utmost precision
Then stuff it with garlic and mustard
I could serve it houre d'overs
while your socket still spurts
forth flood foamy and frothy
Or I could blend it up smooth,
well what could I lose
if I brewed it up in my coffee
The hours that I spend
chewing on my pen
Thinking how crunchy it would be
If I tossed up a salad
Threw on a love ballad
and roasted it up for my tea
Goddamn your blue eyes
I really despise all the things that you did to me
I can't look at your face, without utter distaste
I'm grateful I'm finally free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bottled up rage, anger and disgust occasioned by mental and physical abuse received while in tragic bliss of love well depicted in the poem. A well articulated poem written from the heart. A nice poem indeed. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.