Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
all the eyes I have are doll’s eyes.
i sleep where the dreaming is all skies
and scrimshaw. I etch my dreaming into bone.
with all my cumbersome remedies
failing to foist the umbrage
of my knee-**** calliope.
how my nerves Minerva without Wisdom.
As my tyrannies conspire
to abide,

so much moon meat in the hemispheres
of our intangible remove.
the way we aggressively subside
as we quietly entomb.
in bejeweled annihilation
we rupture the clumsy idylls
of our celibate moons.

star flesh wrinkles in a tar pit
of perfect flowers.

like you.

like you.
i missed it here while away
this safe place despite
the car failing

i called recovery
watched the trees
a while while waiting

got it fixed

came back here again

there is always that wish
to return home these days

not always
in those troubled times

here we need no black days
no more, not in this house

seen too many troubles
so an easy day today
&
naturally shall call the garage
for a check over

it is an old thing now
& liking old things
carry on again
back home

for you i hope the laundry smells good
blasts the eyes with white, that music

continues repeatedly
that the snow is crispy
with small birds singing

with mid winter just ahead
 Jan 2020 Lora Lee
Anonymistress
she wore moonlight like lingerie
and made gentle the wild oceans of my soul
If you read any work from Atticus, these are two of his poems combined. I felt that they flowed better together. The thought of the moon and its gravitational pull of the tide, beautiful.
 Jan 2020 Lora Lee
Anonymistress
I could hide my demons well.
Bring my secrets to the grave.
Or I could spill all my truths,
Set those ******* free.
Anonymously of course.

Some days I share thought out poetry.
Other days I just get that **** right off my chest.
Next page