Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"knicking" poems
and so... There ! Amid all allurement and soft machines; the spoiled brat of Venus, knicking the doors and kicking the canned laughter to the foot of a mountain of existential speculation. Amid the cherry bombs and the Persian rugs; so many menageries of tinfoil origami swans. so very little Time. so little rosemary wine in the pickle jars. So few wolves in the porcupine dens  - and only a swarm of hornets in your nightclothes, this morning. and nothing but nettles in your tea. well, nettles and golems and orange hope.
0
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
And So... There ! Amid All Allurement And Soft Machines
I remember the hope you once had When you knew happiness as a lad But the clock ticking The attacks kept knicking Away at your heart once glad Something shattered the person you were Something initiated your life into blur I can not know How deep the sorrow That your heart seems to lure Where O light did you go? Why this baggage must I tow? To help you find Your own self and mind That your heart has long let go. We, hand in hand, must not part The binding of self is an art You are me The one who can't see How lost, how desperate, our heart
0
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 11:28 AM UTC
Heart
Like sculpture I sat under the buzzing light Smoking a cigarette to commemorate You stole the words from my mouth And put them in your songs You took the love from my eyes And put it on the canvas The stitch of my skin Was nothing more than a place to wipe your tears My clothes were yours My shoes were yours My teeth Never        Straight Enough For you So I shaved my head Knicking my scalp with the razor And watching the blood Flow down my face I feel nothing Because the oxy tells me to feel nothing Crimson river dripping into the sink This is my blood And you could never take it from me Now matter how hard you bit Now matter how Sharp the knife **** your name **** your house **** your car **** my eagerness Latley the only thing that the paycheck buys Are bottles of fire water and pain pills We don't need you We don't need you The life of my eyes tells me We will never need you
0
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
Southern Comfort only gives me the blues