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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Again, just kick starting the stalled creative urge. Basically, this is a shameless ramble about lost love (seems to be a common theme!) though I am still baffled by what it all means ;)

Blossoming with the scent of green
The petal wings of golden filigree
Unfold for our unholy delectation

Revealing eyes that dim with languid satiation
And red cherubic lips glistening in anticipation
The bait that lures us to our doom.

I flicked channels
(forever a whore to the remote)
But the transient image remained,
In rogue diodes and stuttered ether,
Embedded in hazed translucent stains,
A fragrant absence forever present.

Unanswered prayers sent to nameless gods
Who wept with laughter at such avid despair
While playing discordant spectral harps
Strung with the shorn hair
Of all fools who care

The relentless mocking sun
Seared remorselessly down
Exposing the ardent clowns
Who so fruitlessly bargained
Against such shameless destiny.

Too unstable for sustained flight
We turn for a last ditch fight
But inked shadows of regret
And the luminous pull of guilt
Obscured our enemy's friend
She who laughs in careless piety,
A tinkle of embroidered breath
Barely rising above the shallow depths
Of dispassionately amused disinterest,
Full with the smiling chimeras of non-intent.

Hands clasped around the throat
Of savaged empty dreams
We turn with unruly anger,
And choke out the final screams
Of mortally wounded hope
And all coagulating futures,
Our spent shell twisting
In the fragrant uncaring breeze

Submitted: October 19, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Paul R. All rights reserved.

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