Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
intelligence is wasted on
an obedience within a
geometric of a square...
no point keeping social
assurances; about time someone
got so drunk they'd recall
having a grandmother
in quotable citation -
to express the evaluations
of values theorised but never practised.
once the target of advertisement, now the targeting advert machine that pausing live t.v. created, with the internet... once ready for being branded, now asked to brand, to be the grey matter and ***** work pamphleteer, as if for the solidarity movement... no, the advert's inverted device, ushered on by the hope for endorsements giving Libra the universal answer to the antagonism of imperial and metric measurements having found a twin-usage solution akin to Israel and Palestine.*

https://goo.gl/TNDAab,
some want this, some want that...
and some want to commit to suicide,
only because you wrote poetry
and left desperation for most of us
having the sole consolidation
evacuating us from practice -
the art part-time, art in your spare-time,
art on the sly, art that's no art,
no expansion of vocabulary -
some want this, some want that,
and some want to commit suicide
only because you engaged with poetry
and discovered poetry was the use
of rhyme as painting would be
should the colour blue be used -
what a shame.
I feel the curve of your palm
Like a phantom ache,
And know that this impression
Has permanence.

Pondering the dust devils
In mid-fall
Your presence coalesces
Like those phenomenal vortexes
That spring up unexpectedly
Swirling pieces of a world
That is slowly falling
Asleep.

Snowflakes drifted in winter
Occasionally catching mates
To dance to earth with,
And alone I traced
And remembered patterns in the ice
With initials scrawled.

The world was a contradiction
Of flowers and ice
And I marveled at the strength it takes
For a tiny seedling
To briefly break through the
Weight of the World.

One more glimpse,
One more chance, when the sun bathes the earth
And children robed like a flock of crows
Take a stretch of paper
Relinquishing them
To the real world.

One more moment to see
How the span of seasons
Can change everything
And nothing.
. . .

just,
never
yours.
(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
 Feb 2016 Antoinette G
Hailey P
The devil wiggles
Your tongue
And spits lies
Like the fire
Of a thousand suns
 Feb 2016 Antoinette G
neth jones
Bow
Raw Meat and Red Teeth
I'm a Bow to the Moon
I Click over Cobbles
My Mad Energy
Bailed in my Stomach
I Task Myself
Open
And Daring Prey to Cross the Tension
Strung on my Senses
All Hot Gut and Wire
I'm Playing at Being
A Wild and Mean Thing
And I am Dedicated to this Wound.
Next page