Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#faints
she confounds me with sweet raisins and nuts, accolades oh so high the caloric content.... ***”Yours [poetry], is subtle, that seek to grasp, hide and peek, strong/weak/out-front/meek. It charms like a snake a wake of ideas, with innuendo, yet it's sublime, a bell that chimes, a walk in hell, a credo a charm, two-arms to keep one warm”*** ~ **** your praise, cursed encouragement, leave me well enough to my audience of the occasional stumbled on, the accidental tourists, the who few nick my cheek when they randomly seek a few minutes aside, an at-last-last-chance peek, giving us both, the reader and criminal, pause, the pause of ‘who wrote this?’ and it’s innate counter-mate of wonder, when to my attention brought, ‘did I write this?’ **** praise, poisonous snakes only need apply, the wake of my ship so quickly dissipates upon the unmapped, unending Sea of New Poets, where the 99% just drown the first time round, and the remaining survivors  glory in fame so fleeting, ‘twere not for the unburied of the internet, their zombies would too be shipwrecked, ungiving, undead... a credo? not I. a credo requires preaching, acolytes according a poet succored reams of accusative praise, all such leads to ******* up to the egoland where failures reside alone gleeful pride, and goes to die on bouquets faded from by over caressing their petals, to floor dropped, in silent admiration, the imagined bells of hell ringing only in the ears of the delusional deluded my maturity existential, let it be forgotten, troubling no one, a new audience of one, owning tickets of broken mirrored pieces, my layers peeled back, this imagery unrecognized, not I, not I, for fainted be, the poison of pride denied, for my writings writ by an accursed one, long since buried in the faint ashes of lost glorious forgotteness ~ but humbled nonetheless and it is the finale, “two arms to keep one warm,” with an elixir of words ear whispered, **** you know my weakness, and now my bravado erased by your single touch prophesied
0
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 12:07 PM UTC
she faints me with **** praise
she confounds me with sweet raisins and nuts, accolades oh so high the caloric content.... ***”Yours [poetry], is subtle, that seek to grasp, hide and peek, strong/weak/out-front/meek. It charms like a snake a wake of ideas, with innuendo, yet it's sublime, a bell that chimes, a walk in hell, a credo a charm, two-arms to keep one warm”*** ~ **** your praise, cursed encouragement, leave me well enough to my audience of the occasional stumbled on, the accidental tourists, the who few nick my cheek when they randomly seek a few minutes aside, an at-last-last-chance peek, giving us both, the reader and criminal, pause, the pause of ‘who wrote this?’ and it’s innate counter-mate of wonder, when to my attention brought, ‘did I write this?’ **** praise, poisonous snakes only need apply, the wake of my ship so quickly dissipates upon the unmapped, unending Sea of New Poets, where the 99% just drown the first time round, and the remaining survivors  glory in fame so fleeting, ‘twere not for the unburied of the internet, their zombies would too be shipwrecked, ungiving, undead... a credo? not I. a credo requires preaching, acolytes according a poet succored reams of accusative praise, all such leads to ******* up to the egoland where failures reside alone gleeful pride, and goes to die on bouquets faded from by over caressing their petals, to floor dropped, in silent admiration, the imagined bells of hell ringing only in the ears of the delusional deluded my maturity existential, let it be forgotten, troubling no one, a new audience of one, owning tickets of broken mirrored pieces, my layers peeled back, this imagery unrecognized, not I, not I, for fainted be, the poison of pride denied, for my writings writ by an accursed one, long since buried in the faint ashes of lost glorious forgotteness ~ but humbled nonetheless and it is the finale, “two arms to keep one warm,” with an elixir of words ear whispered, **** you know my weakness, and now my bravado erased by your single touch prophesied
Continue reading...
46