Long Inkwells Poems

Here's the deal, folks...

   This is, as indicated, the 3rd THIRD of this fairly lengthy poem. Due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations, this piece had to be posted in 3 parts. 
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The era of catatonic self-destruction has risen yet again from boulder-blocked caves,
Whose cavernous stalactite incisors drip with the blood of thorny crowns,
Worn in punitive irony for the subversion of fertile inferiority,
Which, like rabbits, duplicates and...

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Sometimes the thoughts I’m processing
Have me stressing
Like why do I do this
There’s no point in this writing
I should just stick to fighting 
And go back to acting so clueless
I should just take a breath 
And...

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As the branches fall away
and the night has cast her spell,
as my form is disappearing
and I sink into inkwells


A campfire is burning down 
cooling embers warm my mind,
and within this wordless vessel
empty hollows can’t hold...

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Black ink cartridge dead and empty
Once fed blank paper onion white
It was a canon while it lasted
All good copies come to an end

When it ran dry as printers do
All things die in desert lands
Of thirst...

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“ You know; you look like someone else ”
Was the first thing she said
I never did ask, just who, I reminded her of

Say romance fornicated in the guttering of a candle
And its flame lay in...

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They may whisper and jeer behind my back,
Coz they stand no chance abutting my way
They may even write long letters and hip upon rack
I’m sure you might have been convinced in a way
But aren’t you...

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                         I

Veins blue as death but they flow,
tributaries in a returning...

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In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

A million million life forms. And silence in the library.

Dr. Who: Episode - Silence...

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U F O is a W d o p u y t r e s a d f g h k l k m n b v c xz q?

Feeling ill cam be understood to...

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Would my poetry improve if I used a posh pen
A fountain or quill, as was used back when
People took pride in all that they did
Not like these days, anything for a quid
Where are the inkwells...

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Can you recall being in school?
The clock, whose hands, never seemed to move!

The scent of fresh pencil shavings, m-m-m.
A box of new crayons to not only open, but to smell.

The desks we had, actually had...

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Swirling vistas of such sweetness found floating through the auspian air ~

Pen to pad calibre idioms beyond the verbs measuring these tidewater inkwells aside

Beauties, evergreen genetives in red, white and pinks, pronounced; Camelots dreams.... 

Testimonials...

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I gather up my words
vaulted in my inkwells
dictionaries of feeling
my muse advises me

to plunge my quill
today in suffering
a dictionary of woe
sadly never ending

each word a lost soul
lost through ignorance
my quill quivers in despair
then light a...

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Had this weak pen those sly Phoenix's powers,
I wouldn't pester Time's much-envied eternities
With blank queries that deaf ages well eschew,
With any other of fate's multi-jigsawed parities.

I would some five hundred ugly monsters kiss,
And with each...

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The poet writes from
                               ...

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Ordered by name, sights and tree trippers the climbing elephants sustain a marvellous wealth of injested missionary window ledges. Whilst eleven fleas are whipping cow excrement vast spectacular visions of a few beetles writhe in...

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Sadly, I have only the one shallow inkwell to enter words
About my adoring father’s incomparable life.  And, 
Webster’s entire dictionary is not enough to
Even describe a day of his existence.  How on 
This...

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When our empty world spins silently 
black rains will wash the sky 
and the sun will shine ferociously 
upon seas that have boiled dry.

Those hopes and dreams of yesterday 
float lost upon the breeze 
and...

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Blank pages strewed high on my desk in pain,
For now, I heard the squelch of death again,
It had echoed from my emptied inkwells,
As dying words crept from a mind that quells,

Pilfered hands scrawl at piles...

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It gathered them, 
the dust in the wind,
to a one-room building
filled with laughter and friends.

A time for Johnny
to pull Sally's pig tails.
Boys hiding frogs
in girl's lunch pails.

Inkwells for writing,
catalogs for reading.
Not much else
farm kids needing.

It...

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