vacationing in purgatory

By sonora

Mon, 31 Jan 2011
  • 1240 reads
5 comments
 

bloody great box of bones you stalk my life

walking on four legs in the mourning
gears clacking cough racking
with a twisted smile
i hide behind children throwing stones
and lick the platter in atonement
scheming my nemesis and fears whirring
a machine machine machine
so much for this brave new world i would pray to god but god has packed up his bags and gone vacationing in purgatory

Certificate PG
Poem
The Dead Start Fires
Other Fiction

Comments

Submitted by celticman on
great imagery.

 

Submitted by seashore on
Strong stuff and I do like strong.

Submitted by sonora on
Thank you both very much :o>

'Art is not a mirror to reflect reality, but a hammer with which to shape it.'

Submitted by fatboy74 on
I like your poems sonora, they are not ordinary in any way. :-)

 

Submitted by sonora on
Thank you fb - that's probably the biggest compliment anyone could pay me :o}

'Art is not a mirror to reflect reality, but a hammer with which to shape it.'