I do not have a closet full of mourning clothes I have never inked the names of my dead on my tender forearms in solemn
Category: Poetry
Morning Tanka 3
Dancing in the dark With the demons in my head I lead, they follow Our steps familiar, practiced Shall we waltz, foxtrot , tango?
Tarot
it took time to reach the dusty crossroads but only a moment to sell my soul to The Devil a willing sacrifice I signed the
Petals
you peel back my layers slowly gently reverently one by one petals of a zinnia bud I take a risk resist the instinct to stay
My Beast
caged beast hidden in my breast screams inchoate rage beats its fists into bloody pulp against metal ribs until they splinter reunited we cling fiercely
You
your eyes are sometimes all I can think of when I lie here alone at night in the bed we used to share I remember
‘What do these beast like trees know…’ a first draft poem by S Francis
Originally posted on Fullbeard Lit:
What do these beast like trees know of me I stare at them like they are veins transporting The blood…
Beyond the Waving Grass- Michael Erickson
Originally posted on Go Dog Go Café:
Trace a silent line of beating wings, Beyond an edge of this road ahead. There I will stand…
Spoken Word Poetry: Glori B. + Teresa Johnson – “Pack of Bitches”
Originally posted on Whisper and the Roar:
They just slay this. . . https://youtu.be/8uHD3n20voI ?
