Friday, June 14, 2013

Friday Original Poem

Bonfire Desiderata


Third degree burns between your lips
Tongue black and peeling

In all these years,
You have said nothing you meant
Locked your thoughts in
Sinews, exposed to the air
Toughened so that the edges are now sharp enough to scratch

We know the rules
Don’t press
And anyway, the dread of
What lurks within your fleet retinas
Keeps our own mouths pinned

There is nothing placid or peaceful
In your Desiderata


4 comments:

  1. I loved this poem--VERY STRONG!!

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  2. This is amazing. I think I say that every time I read one of your poems. Truly, inspiring. I am so honored to share a blog with you :)

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