Katrina Parkinson Poet Free verse

Bottomless bottles of bile, in my wake

In my wake, if i were to awaken,
O' wakeful wonder to wrench mine withered eyes 
Aware'f the withering summer haze
Out in my bright eyed future, out in my cross toe'd path
Pompous poppies t'prop mine withering body
Lest f'saken soil shall chance this chance and enwrap thy very soul
Whole, wholly in unholy disrepair 
Where thy feet ne'er make a pair

In my wake, where bottomless bile surely shalln't sate,
Grace be with grace whereth fate form'd nigh near'r thy hate
voracious, inherent, timbered'n barrels 
Embedded beneath thy bedded tomb t'ferment 
Fraught feminal petticoats bed thy bones'n skin, t'sit within
Barrelled quarrels quashed'n quaint fricatives,
T'lace these afaced wicked motives.
Foot befitting feet b'fore foolish faces reverberate foolish vows
F'petty petticoats liven' lieu'f laced love.

In my latent wake, 
Tend t'the petty posies 
T'prop mine body 
Towards th'lascerating ladle'f love,
And into th'deepening dish'f self-hate.

24//8//25

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment