Composure show your best face
Daisy don’t make it hazy – leave out the ‘just in case’ can of mace.
Three announced pregnancies delivered in one week
One Stork wraps a cord around emotions -trachea.
Manipulation in search for a vein
hooked up intravenously
suffering from a bout of the sickness days gone by,
Day spent prodding a familiar corpse
Lavender eye shadow caked on.
An ex-hookers heinous crime of remorse.
Blend in shades of elegance, class cuts above diamonds
-less valuable than the African Congo.
Kleenex tissues – repentance from deeds of liberation.
There is closure in this hymn
that is how sacrilegious people turn as quick as the wind doth blow.
No more drama.
Welcome to the real world -energy in motion kinetic.
Some call it Karma.
Squeaky clean – naked child of the nugget -Midas the king.
Bronchial Bengal licking furballs off her skin.
spots and stripes.
Don’t leave me, Madam.
wailers of bandits ready for the first of half a dozen fights.
Interrupt the flow 2 kg of feather dynamite
How does this writer get away with posting anything credible?
Animals on the uprise.
No more, humans.
Determined by free will.
Save our earth from true predators.
A life is a life,
a loss is a loss.
no one gives a toss
don’t matter who involved in the kill.
Overspill of copper coil excreting from a vulvic cave
Pompei disaster – a necessary tragedy to inspire the seventh wave.
counting on all hands and fingers
I fear I’m not the only one.
canned laughter emerges in the background.
Trashed children abscond to the house occupied by Delirium’s son.
Emotion packs a punch in three
washing machine forgets it’s own no spillage codified key.
Rage -crimson flag.
‘All hail the Spanish bull!’
Gunshots fired -the loss of the human cull.
Grief lapses in streams of nonsequential dreams.
it’s obvious what unravels when we are pulled at the seams.
Damp music sheets obscure the cup of the holy grail.
Green lights flash.
Don’t hesitate -before long you won’t be able to walk
it’s a condition in frail.
life and Death lie, spooning- side by side,
build the bridge
equality in each parlour
you seek to ride.
murder the last heart blackened by holding on.
The injustice of the furies coup
bow your heads in shame,
You are not the only ones who suffer.
Time to sing a different song.
Posted on Apr 3, 2017, in writing and tagged Bereavement, Death, Emotions, humanity, In Yer Face poetry, Love, MY WORLD, POWER POETS, stream of consciousness poetry. Bookmark the permalink. 16 Comments.