Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Sweet coma canopy, brain bath in solemn loops, a gentle washing away of handprints, Makes the bed, blanketed by dreams, rest upon reimagined partitions, instead of the jagged edge, But there are holes in the architecture, pliable infrastructural tunnels to navigate through, Lucky termite splinters the mind, this delicious library, and feasts upon before all acquired souvenirs settle into books, It's then a young turtledove lifts off toward October next, searching for the dry twigs with which to build closure.
0
May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 7:38 AM UTC
Dreams of a Sleeping World
Sweet coma canopy, brain bath in solemn loops, a gentle washing away of handprints, Makes the bed, blanketed by dreams, rest upon reimagined partitions, instead of the jagged edge, But there are holes in the architecture, pliable infrastructural tunnels to navigate through, Lucky termite splinters the mind, this delicious library, and feasts upon before all acquired souvenirs settle into books, It's then a young turtledove lifts off toward October next, searching for the dry twigs with which to build closure.
Inspired by an art exhibition of Oscar Oiwa, using only Sharpie markers.
Carlo-C-Gomez
Written by
56/M/The Exclusion Zone
May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 7:38 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem