there are bunnies made of dust and bunnies made of meat hit by cars made out of rust and steel out on the street and all of them are dead dust bunnies rusty sweet old cars that wheel like ghosts and hares i’ll never…
Category: Marathon Poem
Power of Three (hour 5)
In tarot, the three of swords warns of conflict, sorrow, and heartache. Three sharpened swords pierce a heart at three harsh angles. Brother. Father. You. I can feel the three of swords pulse in my deck, jump under my fingers, singing of my past, present,…
City Rain
city rain paints rainbows around haloed lights splashes colors that confuse in the addled dark Iridescent, luminous, neon screams hurtling through streets saturated with primary hues streaming whites of glaring headlights blind us to what might come drizzling drops, rivulets forming streams red…
Hour Five – write about a dream…
Can it be true? Is that your face I see? Welcome! Please sit and talk with me I’ve missed you so It’s been far too long Where do we begin? I have much to catch you up on What do you mean you cannot stay?…
5. Thank You
I asked you something, never really expecting a response. Yet, you came to me later I could smell your perfume And hear the subtle timbre of your voice All at once, I knew You spoke of many things Alluded to much more When it was…
Death and the Ark
The sun shone brightly, we, children of our parents playing effortlessly, laughing, running, not a care in the world. Soldiers marching in the street people lifelessly falling to the earth, rat-a-tat-tat,rat-a-tat, distant scared-to-death-screaming, scrambling to get under-cover. Please, God, let me hide, in the closet,…
5. The Messenger V
Four years have gone I can’t believe it Since I started writing About my future and It started Manifesting More and often bigger Than I ever imagined Now, I am pushing it to the next level Writing the story of How it all happened And…
A Night With Old Tree Before the City Cut It Down
The tree is leaning over, it is ancient and it is ill and its face is that of a man or something greater I sit and stare and take in its fragrance and I’m glad at the end of its life it spared a blip…
in the throes of slumber
so fucking top heavy head in the clouds of white satin murderous venom plight and heaven’s crown raising rising satirical revising complying multiplying living lying then you’re dying covered faces fearless places communities all or nothing immunities cotton candy collusion sinister solution revised to callousness…
Protected: poem 5 hour 5 bawajigan
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