Swill on its Brow.
Fluid motions,
'Round its Catatonic seams.
Blunt objects, Bludgeoning.
Soul pirates, Plundering.
Tectonic Rumblings
in the Hearts of broken Soldiers,
Wishing that Tales spun
could be downed with ease as Water.
I will sleep with fishes,
and dine with kings,
while terrible angels
deep inside me sing;
I long to inhale
that sweetest of smells,
but alas,
how unfortunate I am,
that I,
will never again
see the whites of her eyes.
Eyes.
Wide.
Wide open.
Unblinking.
The line is long to see me.
Like a circus show.
I am the main attraction.
Come little monkeys,
Come and see.
Gee, I wonder what the main event,
Has gone and left to me?
It's almost sickening,
The game,
Of tug-o-war with golden rings.
With trinkets, baubles, shiny things.
I am so very tired,
Please,
Just let me have my rest.
The show is over,
Leave me now
And promise to be on your best.
Those cuff links aren't yours.
Put them back.
I am 38 years old.
I haven't been shooting in God knows how long,
And I miss it.
The thrill of the hunt.
The intense satisfaction
Of unloading my clip
Into a semi-willing target.
Now that clip is filled with hollow points.
Only the occasional full metal jacket gets through.
Nobody is impressed with impotent bullets.
No child will let me teach them that art.
I am 38 years old,
And I am so very lonely.
Blink.
Blink.
Soft light.
Faces.
Faces I will love.
Faces I will defy.
Faces that will,
Long before I will,
Die.
Mother.
Father.
Tyrant.
Scum.
Brother.
Sister.
Druggie.
Bum.
One look is all it takes
To know I'm destined
For mistakes.
One look at this awful lot,
And I can't help but weep.
But tempting as it is to run,
They are mine,
I am their son.
Roar
Goes he.
And whimper,
Goes she.
His hard calloused hands
Know nothing of mercy.
It's quite alright, though,
For dinner was late,
And she understands why he does it.
Swill on its Brow.
Fluid motions,
'Round its Catatonic seams.
Blunt objects, Bludgeoning.
Soul pirates, Plundering.
Tectonic Rumblings
in the Hearts of broken Soldiers,
Wishing that Tales spun
could be downed with ease as Water.
I will sleep with fishes,
and dine with kings,
while terrible angels
deep inside me sing;
I long to inhale
that sweetest of smells,
but alas,
how unfortunate I am,
that I,
will never again
see the whites of her eyes.
Eyes.
Wide.
Wide open.
Unblinking.
The line is long to see me.
Like a circus show.
I am the main attraction.
Come little monkeys,
Come and see.
Gee, I wonder what the main event,
Has gone and left to me?
It's almost sickening,
The game,
Of tug-o-war with golden rings.
With trinkets, baubles, shiny things.
I am so very tired,
Please,
Just let me have my rest.
The show is over,
Leave me now
And promise to be on your best.
Those cuff links aren't yours.
Put them back.
I am 38 years old.
I haven't been shooting in God knows how long,
And I miss it.
The thrill of the hunt.
The intense satisfaction
Of unloading my clip
Into a semi-willing target.
Now that clip is filled with hollow points.
Only the occasional full metal jacket gets through.
Nobody is impressed with impotent bullets.
No child will let me teach them that art.
I am 38 years old,
And I am so very lonely.
Blink.
Blink.
Soft light.
Faces.
Faces I will love.
Faces I will defy.
Faces that will,
Long before I will,
Die.
Mother.
Father.
Tyrant.
Scum.
Brother.
Sister.
Druggie.
Bum.
One look is all it takes
To know I'm destined
For mistakes.
One look at this awful lot,
And I can't help but weep.
But tempting as it is to run,
They are mine,
I am their son.
Roar
Goes he.
And whimper,
Goes she.
His hard calloused hands
Know nothing of mercy.
It's quite alright, though,
For dinner was late,
And she understands why he does it.
Its not often that I am, and I take it with great pride. Do me a favor and go check out the awesome poets who were featured along with me.
http://news.deviantart.com/article/158528/
I've just uploaded 3 new pieces that I hope you will all enjoy. I've neglected DA all summer and I'm sorry for that lol. But it was only recently that I regained my poetic voice. Please excuse the absence.