Andreas Vesna
Andreas Vesna Poems
Mirror we're back here again
Fate has rolled with his icy cold knuckles
The summoning of our fateful intertwining paths
Like the sparrow who wrestled against lathes of gore
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Waiting anxiously with my skin dampened in the clammy grasp of my cotton fleece, yet the blue pen and lead pencil perched on the front cover are soothingly calm.
Mouths from all the room's breadth collectively mumbling like the static on the radio in the corner to Him above. Their outstretching minds flare out relentlessly asking for a sacred touch, grappling like the ivy outside the window.
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The cracking of the eggs have set in motion the meandering processes of delectable genesis, with their orange eyes filled with fiery embers of colour. However they are to be joined by an enveloping slew of sugar, as tasteful as the fruits from an edenic enclave in the jewels of the pacific. Then the rest of the ingredients trample in. Flour, baking powder and a sultry drizzle of butter, melted like dropped ice cream on warm summer concrete. Given a stir and a dollop of vanilla, with it's delicate notes of the tropics, and the emulsion disappears into the oven. Now comes the waiting game.
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Words of sandpaper
Chilled like overcast cherry punch
Kiting perfection
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The Best Poem Of Andreas Vesna
Mirroring Intuition
Mirror we're back here again
Fate has rolled with his icy cold knuckles
The summoning of our fateful intertwining paths
Like the sparrow who wrestled against lathes of gore
Mirror that's how I feel when I'm briefed by you
Mirror why do you hide the verbatim of hideousness?
Collins Dictionary says it's revolting, ghastly, monstrous
An unbroken peak stretches out from shattered hills
Remnants as sharp as nights of apprehension
Emotional spears exempt from the clocks of rationality
Rationale from the levees of language
Yet this morning they move not
Flows of verbal ultimatum ain't coming today
Instead the news is all on their lines of fracture
Like the whims of fatigue that the flow has flung
Like the scorn from skies of azure frescoes
Tough luck
The placentic summit of the knoll
A knoll filled with infatuations of guilt
Swollen and elongated with self satisfaction
Why mirror why?
Why the stare of horror
Bags bursting with Benadryl
A creature of adversity lovelessly unadorned
Faces scorn of it's jarring coarseness
Sandpapered and unpolished
Scrapes and nicks
The luciferous twin masters of sight bulge
Brutalised Ivory chests of revelation
Seeping with incredulous vines of scarlet
The onyx core of adversity subdued
Wrangled in gargantuan struggle
Each gasping in her desperation
Have they flaunted with zeal and unhinged mania?
That's what's they said
They're always rightly draped in cloaks of righteousness
They're holder the key to approval
They're firer of a billion electric neurological synapses
What is right is right what wrong is wrong
What is good is good what bad is bad
But in misfortune
An ace pulled from fingers flicking with contempt
A drop of rejoice leaks from the levee's cracks
Our paths unfurl for another day
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4/24/2024 12:56:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
