Tag: poem
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Old 46A route
A swoon-inducing fullmoon The lure of the lunar Weaker still than the ever-lure of drug abusing Lungs ballooned with pure food fumes Rood and my polluted mind in communion Shadelings in collusion, directionless but never waylaid They hate seeing me stand up to stand out, about to prove all I said Muhammad wants the mountain…
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Can’t promise
In the sitting room with two sisters, tell who’s who because one’s hair’s blue Unenviable job of informing them the new groom’s a stool pigeon Sifting through shit for illness hints, grooming the stool for the kingdom Strolled through the airport scanner, printout said malignant For what I’m about to present, you should be sitting…
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Love’s the feeling of an easy breeze teasing your cheeks after weeks of confinement
Only a shot in the arm, what harm can it do? Best foot forward, don’t give gendarme an excuse Best believe I down foot to pedal fast if the wrong question’s asked Pedalled so fast I thought I would puke on the grass when at last I stopped; smoking too much to be giving this…
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Violence stuck in my head attic
I had the task Of putting back together Little Bastard Had been badly smashed Looked bomb blasted A car you’d describe as bombastic We only knew the dangers after No crumble zone, going drunk Uncle can drinking speed fast You’d have to be either elastic Or an absolute spastic I suppose it’s very tragic Violence…
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The story of a love. My love.
What happens after Last drink we both knew we shouldn’t have Master and slave, neither knowing their place Stately chief in eider sleeve sweeping a fireplace While his ragged slave remains abed, postured as if dead on the chaise Daily Saturnalia; contorting, transforming, changing, this fluxsome pace The age of remakes, reforming what our lab…
Alchemisland 