Operation clam
Maybe I’m not who I say am.
Maybe I’m too prised shut.
Im certainly not the man
More likened to a clam.
Plenty of fish to test my lack of faith.
Indirect lines
Caught in the net-
Delivering me to an Ill designed fate.
Mate,
Tag me with an aphrodisiac.
Swimming in the theatre room
Hang up my ten phalanges
To ward off the inner crowd.
Grains of sand obscure my funny elbow.
Morose in all affairs
Wander afar from the nudists-
They emulate all my common fears.
They are my foes.
Grains of sand.
A Stormy clap of hands.
Alone in this operation,
The agenda is to make sure I get by on an innuendo.
Fear to be me-
To let the tears show up my negativity.
Look for the silver lining…
Give up?
Be happy or die trying.
This is a message in a bottle
Fish are borderline crying.
In yer face
Illiterate
Poet,
writer,
Creative of my right palm.
Read in between the lines
I’m the maker of my own divine crime.
Posted on Oct 6, 2020, in POETRY and tagged Creativity, Emotions, Life, Nature, poems, POETRY, Relationships, Stream of consciousness. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Daisy in the willows 
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