A white tear bled from the foil seam,
a cold, lactic rot sliding down her woven leather heel,
drawing a pale, sour map across her instep.
I watched the porcelain skin of her shoe drink the milk,
and in that quiet curdling, my entire small frame snapped.
A choir of jagged iron shrieked beneath my skull,
tearing through the bone and behind my eyes:
a ruined child deserves no sun.
I did not wait for any reflex.
I dragged myself by the throat,
spat curses into my own ears,
and ran.
I bolted past the garden gate,
past the tall, unbothered grass,
my bare feet slapping the dirt in a rhythm of
self - contempt and fault.
In the damp dark behind the compost heap,
I pressed my face into the stinging nettles,
scraping my knees against the jagged limestone,
offering my own raw, bleeding shins to the air
to pay the debt for what I had done
praying the earth would swallow the wretched thing I was.
In the never ending dream I keep walking
Through the insufficient scheme I keep talking
It’s a crying shame, still not quite enough
You may call it lame, call it boring stuff
In the morning street on a shady sidewalk
I move on whispering inner monologue
Wouldn’t be surprised if you do the same
We’ve got something to alter this lose-lose game
In the fading dream, that doesn’t fade too much
There’s a hidden door, that I can’t unlatch
But I tend to suspect it’s an exit door
Must be cold outside, colder than before
So this narrow passage leads to square I know
And I’m welcomed in again, where I used to go
And the waiter turns up with a tray of grapes
Offering a complimentary aftertaste.
Lemonade flows
fluted fountain
diamond rivers
gentle rainy sprinkles
honey
sweet or sour kisses
dew faeries dancing
opus romance
coveted rose essence
open window
summer breeze
memories
lemony taffy
scented peppermint
sour kisses.
Tamarind Candy to Eat
By: Feb Francisca Chaves
In my loneliness heart of our night,
I closed the curtain and blown off the candle light,
Then I stared at the glance of the sky.
As they watching twinkling like a wink of an eye.
As a look up far in the balcony at the pearly moon,
We share our first night of our consummation.
He pull me closer through his arms tightly and I riding me up as moaned.
We making love and I have no shame of it.
He serve me a Tamarind candy to eat.
And we kept doing it as I aroused until the clock of eight.
I want this to stop but he keep clapping on to the top.
He made me calm by brushing my cave and dig a mine.
After that we wrap ourselves a blanket in the bed — sleep.
And rest my head and close my eyes to keep.
spring buds bloom on every bough
green life wakes within the now
dark mold creeps across the wall
rotting fruit/ sours it all.
I want to sing something
relevant
Sing what I tell you to sing
do as I say
do as I say!........
oh winters postlude
the winds the trees
the toppled and twisted branches
oh to have a warm day
----------------------------------
Do your thang
just keep me in mind
I do the same for you
that's just being sweet and kind
scratch my back
I'll gladly scratch yours's
what's a man suposse to do
it's what ah man supposse to do
you my freind and lover
we still chill and carry-on
got ah good thang witcha
like what we got going on
es and snitches
often try to mess up
we stick together
my sweet Alguien
when things get tuff
full respect darling
see what I'm saying
What gotta good thang here
Yes, burrowing clams help make natural gas, specifically methane (
), by fostering the production of the gas in marine sediments
I'm in love
and you know I aint playing
If only fate could allow me death ,
I could forever be grateful,
If only destiny would cut me loose ,
I wouldn't wonder again.
If only death was a stone throw away ,
I could pay a visit without turmoil,
If only I had known ,
I would have never existed!
I dance with flames ,
I sing with claims,
So big you become a venture ,
A truth sorted beyond reach .
Come to me gentle love ,
Come to dear hope ,
Kiss me not so long ,
Death I wish for ,you are my sunshine.
If only tears would let me see ,
If only guilt would let me act ,
If only the past would let me live ,
I would be with you dear death .
Tell me a soothing warning,
Shout at me a command to follow ,
I can't leave kissing ashes without that fire ,
Burn away the tiring joy .
Is it not tears I look forward to ?
Death,is it not the burning I long for ?
Is it not the curse I want ?
Take pride in my torture,
My body is a template ,
A canvas written with a bleeding scalpel,
Kill me but let me fall onto your hands .
24.
Sour Tweet
Aloft where challenging gray sheet & proud minds meet
Silence envelops air but robins hum so sweet
In seats all uniformed seem petrified
Mr. Serious conquered everyone's pride
“Til lonesome breaks by non-bird, human farts sour tweet.
-01/12/2007
(Dumarao)
*Topsy-Turvy Limerick Ironic
Vaults of wealth, goodwill
Grabbed fistful, spill o'er like sand.
No one's worried still.
Sweeter are found fruits in hand,
And sour, higher up to fend.
Mocks a mocking bird:
Not grapes, sour seem ways to mend,
Change ere sour turns curd.
_______________________
Tanka (Senryu) | 08.11.2025 | bird, change, fruits, goodwill, wealth
Note: Wealth and goodwill when invested and nurtured would yield well. But man’s first instinct is to grab like a miser. For, grapes are sour if too high to fetch. A mockingbird mocks in this Tanka.
The capuccino is sour
The cigarette does not feel good
The day feeld a series of repeated tasks
Boring
What I am lazy to do
It is a rainy november day
And I lack motivation
Put me to sleep.
Final leg, still a chance
Focused, head down
Pain
Energy fading
A foot slip
Concentration meets exhaustion
Pedalling harder, slowing down
Quick look down
Something is wrong
I swear
I stop
No other way
A broken chain did end false, grand hopes
I jolt, knees lock, my nerves, open panic
Quietly raging, steward turns up, voices warn
Xanthopsia, yellow zephyr
Wheels flash passed
Peloton already distant
Stragglers stare
Endgame
Consoled by crowd
Devastated
Punctured dreams
Once I was trapped just as a pet,
And let them do what they set.
Some people call me dirtiest place,
They do not know about the race.
Race of development, race of grace,
Race of making a perfect face.
I got freedom years before,
Yet not properly - the truth is sour.
A day I will reach so high,
And thus I will keep to try.
Princess
does not
meet prince,
never
happy
ever
after
Perhaps
a frog
is kissed,
perhaps
a fool
with his
laughter.
Ruby
slippers
cannot
take you
home sweet
home; dreams
turn sour.
The hour
getting
late, late!
Shelter
now in
your strong
tower.
In the vault of sorrows, the lights are dim,
Memories dangle stiff, stark, cold and grim.
In glass-fronted vaults of remains half-dead,
Haunting to avenge losses, regrets and dread.
Bitterness is grit, dust and rust—
Metal relics wrapped in tempered crust.
Too sharp to hold, too old to appeal,
Scars embalmed, behind bars of steel.
Fur skins and feathered bones, long dead.
Eyes once bright, are now glass instead.
Stuffed with pride, stitched in despair,
They rage within riles, gasping for air.
Old garments show arguments, long of old,
With threadbare cuffs, and buttons of gold.
They're sour of fit, and hung too tight,
To ever again leave shadows in bright sunlight.
Such bitterness belongs in museum displays.
Where you can visit it on sad, rainy rue days.
To see such hateful feeling-disheveled, dismembered.
Covered in dust, to be forgotten, not remembered.
Lock it up, behind the glass, don’t let it breathe,
Bitterness will bloom, when we fail to believe.
It should be kept under lock and key.
Where all such sour sorrows, are meant to be.
Meant to be, Meant to be-!
That's the key, That's the key!
It hits the tongue without warning
Burns the throat where it once soothed
Makes breathing feel like drowning
You gasp but nothing moves.
Like love
When it shifts without a sign
Leaves two hearts beating strangely
Out of sync & out of time.
The light that once felt certain
Starts to flicker & then to fade
And every step you take alone
Feels colder than the shade.
When a heart slips out of reach
Memories build what truth can’t cross
A bridge that leads to nowhere
Not quite on path, not yet lost.
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