LOCKS


 Reading the rocks
leading the locks,
cutting coat...
to throat;
swallowed shadow
low!

...closed door-
doors closed only on the poor
way the will!
Stand still!
Bridal. Arm to arm,
facing the future at the farm
the scraps of the ghost
foaming the frost;
self- puncture,
pipe-dream: portraiture!
On fingering trips,
locked lips...
This missed call
 hanged on the wall
thorns and throes
tips and toes

time is seconds
 round around.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A New World is Born

Image
How primitive and uncivilized I am In the gathering of my black fellows in my traditional attire, my brothers no longer speak the mother tongue because they understand foreign lingua. the surgeon help clear their tribal marks and their clean bodies are used as artistry billboards - for tattoos now they look beautiful. these babies of pornography, for Them polygamy is uncivilized but normal when men marry men  for wives and women marry women for husbands.
Read more

Plight of the poor

Image
Can still smile in poverty Without a root - no property, no hand to rest the head voices better dead With uncomfortable boxes to tick Serving the slave with a stick No one understands our plight Rather, we are robbed of our rights
Read more

Raped

When came first faced with fierce running mothers errand I thought I was too young and innocence For the earth to devour I thought it will ignore me Or rather make no salivation of me But his mustard of mercy, For its eyes where dead, And I had already fallen-in No other way to go out. Its eyes start-stared me And me, for the fear of loosing mother’s money I had to, so I started to run. But his two steps where faster than the hundred I had taken He toasted me to the earth as though I have committed a crime. I thought he wanted the money I fisted, Which I gave it up. But he knifed my peels from my skin With his iron hands, As his unsheathed paws Run down my flesh – on my secreted too. my lips adhered to his palm abide like glue. Though I cried, but only tried. his gear, my tear – torn into pools pool of blood all over his rags and mine It was him and I, His brethren in act The earth and the sun, the stars All witnessed.
Read more