Written: February 13, 2023
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An anathema for,
pilose nettle burns,
an art form of unstable feathers,
tropes across the ivory cuticles.
Melted mascarpone in a figurine,
pearlescent obsidian,
hooping sapped spirit,
sight of the blue sky.
within her boneless flesh,
the artist grumbles severely,
in a strained, velvety voice,
jumping into the air.
Prima picture goes away,
with feeble equine acclaim,
the nest of the forlorn swan,
embracing an ethereal dawn.
Whimsical soprano,
barely etched in matte black,
diploid remains,
a flawless fleck of fascinating fright.
Rakish Requiem for an,
unrequited magnum opus,
rushing on pinewood stains,
on the cusp of collapse.
As she droops on the ladder,
the impresario draws the
opera curtains closer,
while soothing music,
numbs her toes.
When Requiem strolls,
across the stage to the tune of
Mozart pianissimo,
he manages to pull off,
fulfills a task with accuracy.
2nd place contest winner
Categories:
pilose, analogy, appreciation, celebrity, music,
Form: Free verse
Howling jolts me awake
Brings me to my feet
Opening my ears
Sprinting down the gravelly street.
I can feel it's grief and hear it's trembling whimpering. But I can't see it's slanting grin
I can't stroke its slathered pearly coat
Or coax its troubling fears, wrench them off its snowy, pilose skin.
Zigzagging around the sprucely sheathed trees,
Panting, secreting oppressively.
Wildly glaring around like a banshee.
Falling to your knees, punching the sky pathetically.
You are late and tardy
Gazing upon its lifeless body
You can't see it's slanting grin
Only fondle it's gnawed bones
And painfully watch it's spirit and soul disembody.
Categories:
pilose, care, nature,
Form: Rhyme