Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
“When it
rains, it pours…
But when it reigns,
it roars!!!

"Silence speaks volumes…
so it better be at the expense of seeking
to say something of value…
Curse, or is it reaping
the debt of my Father’s sins?
lost in the lurch, beeping left
on my Mother’s things. I heard
they’re dreaming theft, but I believe
it’s death. Here lies another king…
The stakes are flames, arrays of desire
an inexplicable functuay of light and pain…
I take the blame for playing with fire,
in this despicable display of
my plight again.
Burdens of the flesh
Burning of the cash
Virgins of the past
Versions of the hags
Curtains when I pass
Searching for finesse
Church is when I rest
Burden is my path
"It’s not hard to create, not harder than it is to cremate. Destroy to rebuild, who gave me the right to relate? I’ll deploy the guilt, it’s who lives inside this ribcage. Authority within, Apology missing… Feeling a bit under the weather lately, maybe coz I’m feeling lit about what matters innately. What’s the next poem, where’s my nest home, what’s the last hope? I’m vexed, so let me ask the Pope, are you the best? Nope.  Or should I turn it into a rope and pray? Can’t do that without thinking of the hangings, it hurts so I clear my throat…
nay, can’t do that when you’re sinking from the angering. I’m recluse so I
put my faith on my Refuge piously and conclude. The page is now my deluge and the siren is left confused…
"Rule of thumb better
be exception to the rule
Use a ruler or thumb,
there’ll never be
perfection to a jewel
Duel with being numb,
or put a caption to cartoon
Ruth has a big lump,
with a passion to pursue
Arteries like art in trees
Atrocities might come in threes,
but series of my blood is green
Like palm trees on Jesus’ Sunday
It’ll plant seeds for seasons, someday

Next page