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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "The Chalice of Murdered Crows" How many moonbeams would it take to overflow my chalice bathe me naked dew kissed diamond glistening bare skin freedom feet seeking my missing, slow dancing lover’s athamé How many sunbeams would it take to burn your see-through eyes knowing all right through my violent pounding chest pluck my stinging heartstrings like a smoking Cello pull me towards your magnetic fearless breast hear your bless’ed rising bellow, a victory call put to the test As my world turns like a spinning top thrust me through your fiery portal to rest in your heavenly arms lightening storms and thunder electric fibrillate emotions resurrect rocking gently, languid perched atop your calm ocean we are transparent ghosts of each other True Confederates A plundered treasure box overflowing with secret charms rosaries, safe passages from a book, jigsaw puzzle pieces strange treasure maps, a blunderbuss, gunpowder, snake poison and moist pearls drop divinely on your deck the wind, your breath, whispers it’s sacred balm into my ears “No need to fear, take a sip from my chalice, my dear - Secure your harbour” Rooster crows three times Light ascends within, cloaked darkness slyly turns and smiles it's out to win again La Petite Mort Moon kisses Sun and burns Chalice overflows swooning drunk on LOVE As our real world returns tangled in sheets of clean white pages Unmarked, invisible, story Murder of Black Crows in all their glory flutter feathered wings retreat approaching dawn they are seeking the Dark Star and spider webs before the early morn Keys are played silently ‘tis tattooed forever on the brain Sweet memory bleeds into right margin, Written on the body, a baby’s to be borne, to reign Love Letter sealed forever, marks a moment in the Chronicles of Wasted Time The Cuckoo The Great Pretender pretending she’s behest sits on the absent Swan Queen’s nest, while Jailbirds screech alongside their familiars Flying Monkeys banging on their chests - Like rancid oysters shucked Poe has swallowed Plath Death has put the past to rest Turns forward the hands of time in this story of twisted fate a sweet life never rhymes Two minutes past Midnight Two very distant Swans escape they are flying East not West Poe has swallowed Plath Death has put the past to rest https://youtu.be/YDBzVJCMLsw Morning Mr Magpie/Radiohead
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