Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2019
2




Facsimile, with precision technologies in tiny submarines. Two
or three faces extracts in mid- eyed focus, flowers mistaken. A
compassionate elephant's sleepless night, to see the hunter in
his visory dreams. What are you saying about the look of love?
It is upsetting to see the ivory of heavenly beauty, spoil of a

a lost war unforgotten still. The facsimile is showing a windmill
and not a castle, in the thin- aired breeze of the southwind. The
dead animal severed by a loving hand, humanely. Your
dominant mind is not making me an ally, but quiet enemy. Or,
I will count the hours in our lives stonedeaf of love.





3.



Champion of sulking, shine like gold in the bedroom. Sleep
is the fiddler on the roof above our house, in a new concept.
A little inspiration comes back to mind: there are two choices
if we want to keep the mikvah or chuppah. LIfe and living, l'
chaim! Or mazzeltov, putting it politely. Where will the mice

live, the pigeons and me? I am trying to ignore all the bad
vibes coming from that direction. Pointing at you, index fin-
gering. But I am not worried, I got your shoe in my hand.
The world outside is getting ready for a big story. Try living
for once, my love. I am telling you, I am right about the house.
Tessa cycle III
Tipon
Written by
Tipon  20/M/Netherlands
(20/M/Netherlands)   
173
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems