Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
l-seagullPoems
Feed me a question darling milkmaid Not the nourishing liquid but a perplexing Openness of the vast curve with a dot Dropped like an atomic bomb What is left after all the ties are cut? Is there a but or an and or maybe... Multitude of dots to signify My directionless struggle To abandon the uncomfortable Safety with it’s dangerous allure And grotesque predictability Promising to swallow me whole As if the dark void inside I can’t let go Has substance beyond any measure What is left of the dairymaid After the king is settled for what was Expected Of someone else That he never was And they never knew And she never spoke up Waiting patiently For her women’s share of beating Hated more than hell So powerful she was in her Dangerous powerlessness Until the last breath She held herself under his thumb Proper girl, ********** held by the brackets Of what others couldn’t comprehend And the ear already heard And the eye struggled to find Spontaneity buried 6 feet under The past of shameful Helplessness The burning bush The king proclaimed A shameful rhetoric Which held none of his Essence
0
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
Milkmaid confused slipped on the king’s spit and the urge to flee
Feed me a question darling milkmaid Not the nourishing liquid but a perplexing Openness of the vast curve with a dot Dropped like an atomic bomb What is left after all the ties are cut? Is there a but or an and or maybe... Multitude of dots to signify My directionless struggle To abandon the uncomfortable Safety with it’s dangerous allure And grotesque predictability Promising to swallow me whole As if the dark void inside I can’t let go Has substance beyond any measure What is left of the dairymaid After the king is settled for what was Expected Of someone else That he never was And they never knew And she never spoke up Waiting patiently For her women’s share of beating Hated more than hell So powerful she was in her Dangerous powerlessness Until the last breath She held herself under his thumb Proper girl, ********** held by the brackets Of what others couldn’t comprehend And the ear already heard And the eye struggled to find Spontaneity buried 6 feet under The past of shameful Helplessness The burning bush The king proclaimed A shameful rhetoric Which held none of his Essence
l-seagull
Written by
l-seagull
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem