Lost Conceptions

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just some images and ideas.

Submitted: September 28, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 28, 2012




The walls peel faster

than their pet's enveloped mind.

A kaleidoscope of curls and regression

'till drip, drip;

rain leaks through eyebars.

Minute forces carve

fearsome faces into

long-lost landscapes in

infrequent fits of sanity.

Mining the mind's minefield

to shine, gleam, flicker

and roar.

Surface and ceiling reunited

as the walls close in on

their pet.


Counting beats to block out

counting thuds from

next door.

The Last Man writes his manifesto

in spare time

from the attic,

scribbling notes over the walls

to be misinterpreted

during deconstruction. 

Hallucinogenic hope

drives him on to

the End of Days.


Fooling no-one,

feet pound as they run

far, so far.

The prospect of betterment

on the horizon

is nought but a mirage.

© Copyright 2017 Mathew Nicolson. All rights reserved.