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Sombro Mar 2019
A bed in an ICU
Is just an electric chair with cushions
Your broken feet charred and inert
Twitch in your sleep, like you're dreaming of getting up
And telling me you're going to stay
For the memories we'll still make together

And when you're awake
I almost wish you wouldn't be
But I smile like breaking glass
Waiting for the after, the endless without
And you talk for me, as I don't

You're scared, but you can't show it
Because my peace always came first for you
But that won't be much longer
Your full stop is my comma
But there won't be a rhyme tomorrow

What you mean to me
Will be broken into a thousand words
That will fade, like the sound of your voice
To mean nothing, the world you still walked in
The soil I can't make grow again

No spring will set in your chest
But I'll have to greet the winds that take you
To think without the dust
And meet the heart that's left behind.
Sombro Feb 2019
Beautiful woman,
Write yourself in the orchid air
With your flowering hair
And your well matched strides in white trainers.

One-of-a-way woman,
Take your time in the daisy weeds
Or the yellow breeds
You pluck with thumb and four fingers.

Sighing woman,
What did you see in the sycamore creek?
Did the gurgling mold froth pinch your cheek
You stirred with kashmir hand?

Beauteous day, crossed the sky with silver trails
In freckled knots of rebirthed trees
And Summer shown in baréd knees
Of beautiful women in swaying silk dresses.
Sombro Feb 2019
If paradise had a name
A prism of the tongue
I would speak it to you, and hear
The tinkling laughter that bless'd the air

And clouds would hear my poem
And spread it through the rain
And eager faces turned to the spring
Would feel my words also

Chuckles showered 'cross the green

Sunny minds would face each other
And grinning, speak the words of meaning
What charmed thoughts would dot the village squares,
And sighing fields of this land

You'd bring that be
A conduit of mercy
A funnel of good will
What wonderful eyes you have that
Look into the skies with me
Sombro Feb 2019
That smell of forest flower
Wearing green and judgeless sun
With padding feet approaches my way
And casts itself o'er the day.

Linen grasping at the buttons
Of a closéd jacket woven soft
In skipping threads pulls her free
Performing satin skin for me.

Hands before the eye's intent
Nuzzled smooth in living games
Close about my turning neck
And butterfly kisses deftly fleck.
Sombro Jan 2019
I question what I know
and know I do not much
but maybe know not nobody
how know they suchy such

What stuttered whimsy
denies the morrow
and leaves its perfume in its wake?
What cloven promise
corrects wonder
that crude and muddy shows mistakes?

Lonely pillows petrify
Mine becomes a plastic sheath
To television inspiration
I hid my dreams beneath

And whole my sleep will stutter
My feet won't walk the floor
I'll take any chance at dawn's return
Murmuring 'once more'
Random verses I just wrote down that I realise aren't that coherent together, but ah well
Sombro Jan 2019
There's a tolling depth to me,
A rebounding chasm
Space a hopeful quantity
Tuned instruments ignore

Where broken column qualities
Lie naked in the unkempt stubble
Undisturbed, those civilised peaks
Mountains for heavens bored smooth by soft hands

Champing teeth abound the wind,
Old sounds of dun legs taking flight
And leaving the knotted trees
That died in the clotted soil

Be warned, beasts have left this barren
Sharp corners have been smoothed for
Once this land was deep and green
And gushed with florid indecencies

Now its depth tolls
With the charter of the wind
Scattering what few collected rocks remain
As bricks for walls built far beyond.
Sombro Nov 2018
In the midnight blue
Night air pinches corners in
Soft sounds seem louder

Dark claiming the day
Shadows new faces grow long
The non-time's soft hum

Rooms close small spaces
Dust fills the room, holding time
Dawn will not break soon
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