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The Violent Space (Or When Your Sister Sleeps Around For Money)

Rating: 3.1
Exchange in greed the ungraceful signs. Thrust
The thick notes between green apple breasts.
Then the shadow of the devil descends,
The violent space cries and angel eyes,
Large and dark, retreat in innocence and in ice.
(Run sister run—the Bugga man comes!)

The violent space cries silently,
Like you cried wide years ago
In another space, speckled by the sun
And the leaves of a green plum tree,
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COMMENTS
Dr Antony Theodore 23 April 2018
And what do I do. I boil my tears in a twisted spoon And dance like an angel on the point of a needle. helpless, i grab the air............ such a great poem. i like this poet.. tony
0 1 Reply
* Sunprincess * 13 January 2017
.....so sad, many feel they must do this to survive ? an unforgettable poem
0 1 Reply
M Asim Nehal 18 July 2016
OUTSTANDING POEM....SPEECHLESS.............100++++ And what do I do. I boil my tears in a twisted spoon And dance like an angel on the point of a needle. I sit counting syllables like Midas gold. I am not bold. I cannot yet take hold of the demon And lift his weight from you black belly, So I grab the air and sing my song. (But the air cannot stand my singing long.)
1 1 Reply
Dutendra Chamling 15 November 2015
......wonderful.....
0 1 Reply

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