I’m getting more pins on Pinterest than hugs on Tumblr these days. and they are all for old stuff, back when I did the visual poetry (images….)
Maybe I should revive the old automotive engine, the converter of words, to spread my virgin words to those not actively worshiping-!0n Tumblr
This challenge will run till January 17th
Subject: The Joy Ephemeral
Let it inspire you in any way. There will be no additional rules for this week’s prompt.
—
Tag your poem #smittenbypoetrygame, and I will reblog it here. Be sure to use one of the first five tags to do this, else there’s a chance it won’t show up when I’ll search for it. If I haven’t reblogged your poem within 24 hours, please send me a message and I’ll add it to the queue.
Oh, I bet The Jay Ephemeral would also pass the submission filter, although calling a Jay ephemeral would be an oops. But since I know both a Joy and a Jay I will withdraw and contemplate — words …
I would have kept you close Had you chosen the path of words Atop a river Bleeding I would have kept you closer Had you chosen anything but Hiding the bottle beneath Your pillow I would have kept you Your dreams Desires spreading Like lice – curling I would have Kept You – Near
Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil
I would have kept you close Had you chosen the path of words Atop a river Bleeding I would have kept you closer Had you chosen anything but Hiding the bottle beneath Your pillow I would have kept you Your dreams Desires spreading Like lice – curling I would have Kept You – Near
and the poet wrote a draft, then forged a plan of revision, and the poet revised and yet again, until nothing remained but letters
Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil
and the poet wrote a draft, then forged a plan of revision, and the poet revised and yet again, until nothing remained but letters
Glowing
I am tired,
tired of looking,
tired of seeing everything
through these eyes,
these battered and
bruised pair of
translucent balls
I was born with
the second sight,
the power to separate
truth
from otherwise
I am tired,
tired of pretending,
tired of being this,
through this and that
a cloud unmattered;
I find only the solemn
void of darkness
I was born with
a second sight,
a power to divide
truth
through force &
purifying
I am tired now,
tired of the everything,
the thing thing &
seeing clouds,
above as here below
I gather my eyes –
glowing
I let the sock slip
down my foot like a
condom
filled with your desire ∆ your
otherwisebetween my legs and your hag
shapes |I finger and touch the most
intimate of
pages ;;
Your innermost desires
{ /dev/null }
and the bra dropped, the bra left
cold:
left sock-less &
slipped,
Nipples erect &
~ wooden ~
