"ceiled" poems
THE SHADOWS PALMS
STRETCHED IN THE EBONY ROADS
MUSING ON THE BLOCKS OF RUGGED STONE STEPS
GARNERED AND GATHERED BY CHAFED PALMS.
STRADDLING OVER THEM
THE DEEP FURROWS AND HEATED BROWS
NOW BROWN AND TANNED WEARING
A RUMMAGED MOUSTACHE OF CLIMBING VINES.
EVERY STEP AMUSES,
A MUSE THAT DOES NOT CEASE TO AMUSE,
IN THE HEAT OVERDOSES.
AND WHEN THE ARECA PALMS PALIPATING
IN ARRAY
HOIST ABOUT LIKE ROWS OF MEN DOPED
IN CEILED BANKS OF DISTRUST
A CYNICAL NILA CRIES ,
HER PLUNDERED SANDS.
NOW THE SUNKEN FERRIES ,
HAVE APPEARED AT HER BAY,
AND PAINFULLY CHAFE EACH OTHER.
A ***** FROM THE BOTTOM
STIRRING THE BELL FOR THE REQUIEM
PAY THE FERRYMEN.
FOR THE WAYFARERS WAFFLED WRITINGS
ARE ADDRESSED
TO THE MEN WHO PLASTERED HER WALLS ALONE
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:31 AM UTC
Call Me Wh#re,
Call Me A Sl#t,
Call Me A B#tch,
And A Tw#t But,
I've Said I'm Sorry,
You Don't Know The Whole Story,
I'm Tired Of You,
And I'm Done With Me,
I'm Tired Of Being Caged Inside,
This Skinned Ceiled Body,
I'm Tired Of The World,
Trying To Torture Me,
I'm Locked In A Cell,
And I Wish You Well,
On Your Way To Hell,
Listen For The Bell,
Don't You Dare Tell,
The World How I Fell.....
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC