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

Betrayed

Stranded and strayed, now, am betrayed where is the money can it afford me honey if the bees are on the barn or will they wait till they go to farm? …a mild me to madness sorry, sorrow and sadness with even much envy and a burden of levy can’t pick with my peak am very weak very sorrowful and sick my blood too thick all I ever seek is tucked in my cheek Am weak I can’t even speak Bruised and bounded Woe and wounded. I plea of death to swallow… Swallow me. I don’t want to see tomorrow I cant even cry, though it hurt, Carrying the world on my hat It’s right time to purge All the pus of the world
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

The Nectaring Bee

Image
daybreak to dawn up and down her yoke she yarns, building her barns. She travels far and wide To places where flowers abide Mothering the particles of pricks As she use them in baking her bricks, Laying and layering her hut, her wisdom door is not shut.
Read more