"dessicate" poems
Your brittle calcium coated voice
slides down my throat like water,
little blue gods of poetry.
Nothing to do but **** and fight.
There’s a run on sentence in my veins
whole flowers framing my bruises.
My bone quiet bruises
wait five miles from your medical voice,
english coastline of veins
covering my anatomy like large bodies of water.
**** yesterday’s fist fight
you left your apologies in poetry.
My alcoholic poetry
a blood orange coated in bruises
a history of last night’s pillow fight
catching religion in your voice.
The swallows splash in water
quiet in my dessicate veins.
Fields of goldenrod veins
make my honorary poetry
a theory of cursive water.
Leave aching vegetarian bruises
on my calloused voice
from tearing open the sun to fight.
A polaroid water fight
rolls around in my open veins
a punctuation of your raspy voice,
hospitalized my skin in poetry.
A reckless consumption of bruises
with a mint leaf in a glass water.
Soft echoes burn across the water
silver scissors in a domestic fight
running away from bruises
and mountains of veins.
My second language is poetry
giving my fingertips a muffled voice.
Empty water pleads with your broken voice,
makes me fight against pleated poetry
and pomegranate bruises tighten in my veins.
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
Autumn drives her wind-horse to the gates of change.
She heaves fresh faced in shadows of a sheltering wall.
Eager to test the lie, so to speak, she sighs-
'Is it time yet, is it time?'
She observes a world half asleep, half dead.
'O dessicate Summer, O thirsty lady,
you have sapped all strength,
mopped the life-blood, leached all colour,
turned blushing petals to withered cusps,
you have turned this world to crumbling dust.'
Cat-like she steals, then with a gust....leaps!
whipping a dry pool of terrified leaves into a freshening frenzy.
'I'm here!' she cries 'It's my time.
Dance your full-blown pirouette!'
She turns to a world where neglected grapevines droop.
In the garden of ripening fruit, she plucks bruised from new;
mouldering black fruit that hangs in the crooked elbow of a thirsty tree.
Saddened, her tears fall on leaf-dead ground.
Slow tears, tears to tease dormant seeds from cracked hard-packed ground.
But listen to that sound.....
count the minims spilling on the quavering split terrain!
Net the hour, capture the perfume of moist grass where there is yet no greenness,
where the fat toad leans towards a blackening sky.
We are but children journeying from one season to the next
'Are we there yet? Are we nearly there?'
And when the storm comes we will know to light our way
into the garden of ripening fruit.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2011
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 12:09 PM UTC
*Who’s going to say you’re right, Love,
When you pack your bags and run?
Who’s idyll hand will help you
When you fracture all the fun?
In tearing down the fabric
Of our castle, built of straw,
Is there any satisfaction?
Do you care, Love, anymore?
Who’s going to say you’re right, Love,
When you hurl your verbal spears,
When you lash out with vindictive
And disintegrate to tears?
Who’s going to hold your hand, Sweet,
When you shriek and stamp away,
Leaving chaos in your wake
And destruction in the day?
Who’s going to say you’re right, Love,
When you leave the kids with me,
When they ask Dad “Where is Mummy”?
And tears make it hard to see?
When I know there is another
Who will take you to his lair,
There to rub your silken shoulders
And stroke your auburn hair.
Who’s going to say you’re right, Love,
When you break our world apart,
When you dessicate the fabric
Of this broken family’s heart?*
Marshalg
@thebach
Mangere Bridge
13 August 2011
Aug 12, 2011
Aug 12, 2011 at 4:17 PM UTC
P
L
E
A
S
E
Come home.
U awaken my soul,
my senses & more.
U are my source of laughter.
U crown me with your love,
Like a bouquet, I carry your heart in my hands.
everyday I cry for, over & about you..
PLEASE come home & dessicate my heart of the sorrows of missing you.
U are missing in I.
Come home.
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
*Where goest thou my sullied Grecian Princes?
Where takest thee now, thy perfect soul?
Dost thou ken the sharpened knives are drawn to blood thee
To slice thy tomorrows, rent un-whole.
Dost thou know thy tangled gambles are undone now
The visigoths, then angered, are now wild.
Preparing to dismember thee completely,
Preparing to dessicate thee now my child.
Who will sing thy piteous song of supplication?
Who will bid to share thy brimming cup of blame?
Whence are they who once proffered compensation?
….Vanished one and all… in crimson puffs of flame.
Hollow now the howls of lost redemption,
Empty now expressions of regret,
Gone are all the notes of promissory
Blown about the halls in winds of cold forget.*
M.
6 July
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 1:26 AM UTC
What 'll happen
When the Earth begin to dry up
When its seas and oceans dessicate,
And when its mighty rivers
Are perennial no more;
And when all its inland
Lakes,ponds and tanks go dry
And when large tracts of agri-fields
go barren,bereft of water,
And grains grow ********
And the forests are green no more;
Oh,I foresee the sufferings of cattle'
The giver of milk and milk products,
Their fodder become scanty,
And they are lean,frail and bony,
With udders shrunk and with little milk
That even their calves couldn't suckle;
I foresee the atmosphere with
multi-punctured ozone layer;
And the rays of sun becoming
Painfully hot and penetratively scorching;
Making living unhealthy and frightening;
I foresee men clamouring no more
For gold,platinum and silver
And not even for money;
But,instead fight against each other
in house and in open places
For food and water!
Food and water sell
At prices sky-rocketing ;
I foresee violence erupting everywhere
For food, water and shelter;
And soon, the world turns
A battle-ground for survival,
Heralding an era of survival of the fittest!
All these woes are because
We failed to live in harmony
With the bounteous Nature,
And chose in arrogance to
Live on our own,
And these owes are
The curse of mother Nature?
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 5:01 AM UTC
Am afraid that you
Will take my pulsing heart
And tear it to pieces.
Ruthlessly
painfully
Completely dessicate it.
Cause the truth is
You dont care
What I feel.
You don't love
Me.
I keep lying to myself
And you lead me on
Maybe you like seeing me
Lose control of my inhibitions
Follow you like a bird
Really, you're heartless.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC