Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I received a ticket to the land of never happened,
not knowing how to find its non-end
I flew until  landed on an eyelid,
- you were standing still,

then I thought,

to be able to stand face to face,
let”s carve the gate of the kissless,
- we have eyes, we have,
we flow into them like a river of milk,
eye to eye, lip to lip, - no kiss,
like marble statues, we remain devoted to innocence,
we keep it as holy water,
we drink it without wetting our lips,
without being crazy to kiss when the village burns,

and instead of the table of silence
we better carve the table of non-silence
- everything will be perfect,
without struggling in our own nets,
we hide in one eye, small, small,
unseen and beautiful,
when the unlived would see us
so cute, and quiet,
quite,
like two fireflies,
would let us,
it would let us play between your eyebrows,

*

and we played,
we played with two strands of grass,
the grass of never happened,
it was sweet
so sweet
that the insomnia of a poem struck us,
(already written by the other eye,
but who cares
when I already had a ticket to the land of never happened)
i let time go on
sitting still under a tree
share my solitude.
20/7/2021
Your name rests
Between my lips
Like a prayer
Or maybe
Something sweeter
Dripping off the
Tip of my tongue

©KNL
Our own life...and others
Create
Themes

A sensory examination

Spilled out

Nothing is wasted

It is our write
Life experiences make great poetry. Sometimes they aren’t ours but we feel them as our own.
Oh, if only you would incline your auricle to me my dear
and walk slowly towards the wisps of my caress, your skin
cool and fresh as rain, would feel the touch of my breath
I would whisper little nothings in your shell and tell you secrets
comb your hair, kiss your face, like only a mother's love could  
I'd lift the collar off your neck and blow kisses on your nape
I'd guide you into the warm rush of air that fills your void  
I'd lay on your chest while you breathe and repeat your creed
if only you would draw your helix ear to me and listen softly
I would be your song, your poem or maybe, a tinkling chime
I'd be your constant companion and listen to you, all for free
If I were the wind on your back, I'd push you gently forward
give you so many gusts of joy you would never turn your back
If I were the wind on your face I'd make you blush with pleasure
oh, if only you would incline your ear to me, my dear,
what a proud wind I would be...
~
Wake, no wake

He dreams of obituaries
And toe tagging

Exhuming dearly departed dollars
And biting the nails
Of his cadavers

Forensically speaking
He can talk of the dead

He's one lucky stiff

Pushing up daisies
All over the yard
Of his rose cottage

This life at rainbow's end
Each day mortiferously expires

It's all there in the brochure

~
Next page