Notes About The Poem

Artist Iris Scott proves that finger painting isn't just for kids. The painter has opted out of using brushes &, instead, chosen to slip on a pair of lat

We Ball Then Bawl

We ball then bawl


We rode the lone road
as dears that dare
each goading each's gold
up devil's stairs we stare

out to red herring's sea we see
waves of rungs that wrung
like killer bees we be
tung twigs slipping his tongue

he's a heel that's never healed
spouts the whale and her wail
but as bees spill more spiel
she becoming pale kicking his pail

she took pain from his window pane
tears dropping the glass tiers
till she reigned his clouds of rain
no longer his deer poke or dear

misery's won and they're back to one
what's don is now done?

connie pachecho

4/25/17
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace