IN OTHER WORDS, I CAME TO YOU
NOT OF MY OWN WILL
BUT TO EVERYONE WHO CONCEIVED MY BELIEFS.
TAKE NO GLOOM TO MY DECEIT
DEEP IS MY INTENT, YET NOT FOR EVERYONE
THE VAIL OF MY BEAUTY RESIDES IN THE REALITY OF MY TRUTH
"YET SO FEW"
CURDLED IN THE WEB OF MY DECEPTION IS THE TWIST OF MY TRUTH
FOR MY FAULTS ARE NONE YET SO VISIBLE
TO THE ONE WHO IS OUTSPOKEN DRIPS MY VIRTUE IN FILT.
MY WORDS HAVE NO REDEMPTION, YET THEY MADE NO PROMISE.
Categories:
filt, africa, america, anxiety, betrayal,
Form: Free verse
She liked the way
he spilt his ink.
He had such a great pen
and though it was pink
it was big and round and made her think.
He was always ready to write
again and again.
He wrote the best when she was in his sight.
She was the inspiration for all he’d write.
She loved the things he said,
his words a sexy sound.
With his pen in hand he’d lay his words down.
Oh, how his ink would flow
when she laid her paper just below.
He wrote and wrote
‘til her paper was full
and all his ink was spilt.
His motto was:
"Write or bust
with love and lust
'til the paper is 'filt'."
By: Carole O’Terry Duet
Copyright: 3/21/2018
“All Rights Reserved”
Categories:
filt, love, lust, writing,
Form: Free verse
Death be not arrogant,
even though thou art bind man in thine shackle,
celebrate not over me,ye bloody mutant,
thy stems and roots and leaves,shall I tackle.
Death be not haughty,
for thou art a disdainful bastard,
over me,your powers are getting rusty,
thou taketh everything, even them small as mustard.
O'death you came to me last night,
and broke my mug,
even in twilight,
and stained my rug,
with your filt,
and your shog!
Categories:
filt, death,
Form: Iambic Pentameter