Saturday, November 21, 2020


Rating: 5.0
A killing spree
of evergreen trees,
come down from above me
as I can't see.
Cut, cuss and collect
hail and respect,
unswallow your tongue
and sing me a song.
Will you not unwind
the liquified spine
of a cracked joke of pleasure
to undo the weather?
God, unwalk the time
of crude phony crimes,
let's use deception
as our infinite measure...
So murder me, please,
it will show on receipts,
take out your pen, and write down on trees:
To the unnamed, come
with aftermath chords,
prove your concealed
face, don't ask for more.

Yet I just eat my words
- it's undone.
Angelica Bustle
Topic(s) of this poem: lies,death,deception,pleasure,song,trees,words
Mahtab Bangalee 22 November 2020
Yet I just eat my words - it's undone. // it's valorous to eat it up fully!
0 0 Reply
Sandra Feldman 21 November 2020
Full of uneasiness, pain and fear. Symbolically and bravely expressed! Your anguish touches the reader. You have the making of a true poet, and all the rest that comes with that " blessing" and that " curse" . Keep on writing!
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