Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"thouroughly" poems
stencils of my mind are placed onto parchment paper they slide off the wax like bold black drops of ink they roll and wobble to the perimeter of which jagged teeth have bitten the sheet thouroughly slipping. thouroughly off. complete. a flicker instant shadow peers over drawn lines confused of which is north and which is south; tangled in yarn and straws of twine. configure me a format of what you think is necessary for me to harness and cultivate like grapes of wrath and frida's portrait of sorrow and conformity.
0
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 6:06 PM UTC
Abeadedloom
why are you afraid? are you scared to find my broken parts scared to ***** your jealous fingers on my jagged face are you running away from the damage you've done are you afraid to face what you've done to me? too frightened to see how thouroughly you've shattered me? or are you afraid i'll break you in return? you cannot trace the path of your destruction without falling and i will not stop running to help you up
0
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 11:49 PM UTC
collateral damage
thouroughly THEY CIRLCLE ROUND pretending otherwise doesn't help at all THEY CIRLCLE ROUND "who circles round?" you say THEY soon, all the money shall be gone and the FINAL WAR shall be here all the power in a few hands all the rest as slaves SO THOUROUGHLY THEY CIRCLE ROUND "who circles round?" you say THE ONES WHO SURROUND YOU WHO ELSE?
0
Mar 4, 2011
Mar 4, 2011 at 10:14 AM UTC
they circle round
I'll grab you from behind and thouroughly poetry slam you through all four corners of the room. We'll kiss untill we lift dust and roll across the room. Barreling through we whisper three words that couldn't be said too soon: baby watch out! A broom falls and interrupts our resonating groove. Fixated on our sizzling mood. We dance and in one waltz move we interlock and intertwine. In one fell swoop, we continue to make love, we can't waste time. Days go by didn't even gaze at how the moon shines. Not even dazed by the sunlight this stage is our sunrise. Hand marks on the windows, sweaty palms on the walls, sticky sheets on the carpet..paint on the canvas, my face on that canvas?! Your waist on your canvas?! What did we paint on that canvas?! We got laid on that canvas?! Thats a mistake but I can't complain I ******* love the art that we make. I could do it all day..
0
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
just a thought..