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John Pollux Bellen Poem
Give a cow enough grass,
never exceed it no matter what,
or it will shamelessly ask for more.
Once the fat keeps them away from the cold,
Grinding further, their teeth become boulders,
until the verdant is nowhere to be seen.
A mere flower evades from the sight of gardeners,
too afraid to smell its own scent.
A heel crushing the soil,
stepping a life in thought it was never created
Copyright © John Pollux Bellen | Year Posted 2026
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John Pollux Bellen Poem
I have sought to conquer death,
his reaping blade was just too impalpable against my neck.
Wherein I must traverse alongside a withering flower—
has society already proscribed death?
An incurable disease has fallen,
the doctors left disheartened,
my family already blasé.
Then why I must be anguished?
Ambrosia was never meant to be eaten—
it yearned to be saved.
And if consumed by entitled desires,
it would grapple all mortals to death.
It is inequitable for me to have the antidote
to a disease that was never meant to be cured.
I want to be sanctified once more,
but I am already disillusioned by the veil.
Copyright © John Pollux Bellen | Year Posted 2026
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John Pollux Bellen Poem
Thee have put the familiar spicy on my pot left me embrace the heat, once more
Copyright © John Pollux Bellen | Year Posted 2026
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