original date of publication: unknown, prior to 2020
He holds aloft a trophy dug from the depths of the ocean
and he brushes off the sand lightly, such that it falls across his feet
and he examines his ill-gotten gains with bloodstained fingers
the lady of the ocean does not appreciate this theft.
The castle rings with the sounds of church bells
and they echo unanswered and unheard. The priest
wanders through the halls with a candle that is not lit
searching for a light inamongst the cobwebs.
A little girl plays in the river, soaking her dress
her grandmother scolds her and tells her to come back inside
she runs and trips over her feet, and scars herself
and her grandmother reopens those wounds every fortnight.
She kisses with pounding ferocity, a life waiting
was spent after one night on the run went awry
and love is portrayed in heart-shaped boxes and soft corners
but I want it sharp like the knife she drives into her lover's side.
Echoes of a once beautiful voice drift, bouncing off wood
and it comes around to the ears of a restless bird
and the bird flies, determined to find the snow down south
but it only comes across endless ocean, eventually to drown.
A ball keeps on bouncing away, and as much as he chases it
it finds a winding path through every street in the city
and the dog that chases it eventually tires, and with bleeding feet
settles down in a far-fetched avenue to die.
The wedding bells echo over a churchyard with two empty graves
and there is an empty path up to the bridal party, the priest
every guest stands in waiting, desperate to see the bride and groom
there is nobody there, except everyone.
In the sky, there is a pentagram surrounded by angels
who summon up a new world to replace the one we broke
like bratty children when we break it we just get a new one
and when the angels craft a person they forget two pieces.
There is a puzzle, and it is of three words
six, actually, but three are simply clues
there are four colours and you have to match up
the names in one universe to the names in another.
If you listen to everyone you can build a complete story
with biases, motives and falsehoods all accounted for
and you can sing it to the audience as loud as you like
they would love to hear if there were anyone to listen.
Techno music and vibrant lights shine over a party of dozens
if you ask them all will insist they feel nothing
until you squeeze them dry, every last drop
and then all you're left with is no feelings and waste.
YOU ARE READING
Assorted Poetry
PoetryI had a vent account on Poetizer, but it went paid, so I had to save the poems here. They're not particularly effortful, just vomited prose, but I had nothing else to do with them. They may be added to, or not. Largely not too graphic, but there is...
