Arthur Flockwhimsy Poet Free verse

You Think You Only Know Me, When You Turn On the Light...

If I think I’m Clever, Well, 

I should know, I’m really saying nothing

At All.

Dreaming, 

The Dead sleep in my Sleeves,

Whispering, They Point

How far to that Furniture polished, dyed brighter than blood,

Of far stretched Dream,

Of Rose, Easy  on the stem.

Hoo?, I knew?

spoon?

the Wriggling through Wounds,

Of Air, Loose and Smutty.

Garish Shade of sometimes Lean, Battered Fruit of Fume and Harlot Queen,

Taste,  For your manner is moist, your eyes Far to Jolly.

Motionless vague {Lifts} of a Hand 

And steel fingers Drifting through Conflicted smoke.

Mere Glance, Of Flick,

 Pink Thorn Ash And throat bound Tongue,

Your Head Collapses from imagined Sins.

And Yet such 

Is my 

Unseemliness.



-thend-

♡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