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the boa has excreted gold! - in etymology
cold sequin silhouettes morning sun set on fold
gone from milk tower brim conjunctivitis unfold
skins of the samite , flew modal
computer blood, fig garner feudal
machine bleeds her fingernails epochal
Can’t you see me standing here?
Am I bloody invisible to your eyes?
If so just think of me, things will clear.
I am waiting for the thoughts to arrive.
I hear you laugh as if I am a fool
Hold on, there are many things to talk of.
Too many what if’s, and maybe’s cross my mind.
What of this life now we have reached this point?
Where do we go from here, this crossroad’s?
Why do we have to choose, does it not happen?
I sink into dreams each night that tease my ways.
Why am I able to run so fast, and do many things?
tail lights in windshield slush
like the sleeping murmur
an evenings lush
slash
demure roar
the six hungry for the road
the lone driver
dressed in grey
Come home un-draped edit by Judy and Mand
When they don uniform...
they marry a coffin
so grieve not for soldiers my friends...
it’s the promise of country's patriotism ...
either they come home
or are brought draped....
to fade away
into the oblivion of time
without a bell ring
they
go...
with unsung grace
SECOND VERSION
Come home undraped
Ppl who communicate well
should communicate less
with this kind of mess
calling ppl scumbag is harsh
as their heart's in marsh
when justice for them has apparently fell
Taking apart petal after petal;
"He loves me"
"He loves me not"
"He loves me"
"He loves not"
Others' might have bloomed,
Not mine though,
It withered out
Alike the taken apart petals.
Poor father Daedalus
Was blessed with Icarus,
And what a fool of a son was he.
Such an ingenious inventor
And scientist for a father,
He blamed it on his mother’s genes.
Both caught one day
In a place far away
From the family’s hearth and home,
While Daedalus worked,
Icarus sat and jerked,
Crying on a mossy stone.
But Daedalus did it
To escape prison Crete
He made wings for him and his son.
“We’ll fly from this lair,
We’ll get away from here,
And in doing so we’ll have some fun.”
Excuse me please as I lace these lines with something potent
This is only a moment my day of atonement My words so ferocious
I can turn a Lion into a swarm of locust Buzzing My all ain't for nothing
For one Lend me your ears not your sympathy Crucified by those that were suppose to Love Me
Reading these words your showing me love I am Jesus My mama is Mrs. Butters-worth
Eyes close when lips meet
and reopen when they part
in between is bliss
matters not how long or short
but how deep is the desire
there is a large pile of numbers waiting to be analyzed
and yet i'm reading you through again.
you and your stupid crypticism
i always prided myself on deciphering, and
i am tangled into your metaphors so deeply that i've become one.
that's all i am now, really. your metaphor.
because what purpose does a shell have
the shell is what gets thrown away,
and the shell is empty.
what would you do with me now
an empty shell?
is that why we threw it away?
i want to know if you gave up.