Written: August 22, 2023
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snuggled in a bunk
with the sun glistening in~
soothed with Summer fun
slight melting ice cream
from a massive sugar dome~
It's fun to be mean
but eat your clobbers
smuggle back in the hamper~
In the zephyr wind
Some people say it claws its way out the artist like a demon
As if ripping his soul instead of flesh
Then fervor bursts like blood
So that a painting anthropomorphizes
How then will the canvas look like
If the stirring’s wreaked by the lord of hell?
How will the music ring if Diablo clobbers the drum?
Will there be songs or only blares of Armageddon?
I LUST TO WRITE POEMS.
THIS PEN ITCHES FOR YOUR BLOOD!
red glove clobbers jaw
head turns,eye's slit open
out before he falls
The day is cold and brisk,
Wind beating against my delicate body
Like a touch of a fist
Blowing with a fierce melody
Ready to make another grand stand.
Anger is its name
And destination clobbers
Those who enter its path
Like a piece of clay.
Time lingers
And nothing fits into place
And the bells ring.
A toll has been made
Of the survivors who sing.
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