Read Poems by Joey Turner

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Shame On You

Don’t listen to the whisper.
Don’t encourage the lying Siren:
That your brain is a trash island, refuse washed and scattered upon the shore.
Your mind a broken cobweb dangling,
swaying in autumn’s desolate breath,
catching dead leaves, detritus, and various bugs.
That your heart is crumbling walls, eroded; dilapidated and weathered
like an old barn on a forgotten patch of land.
That your thoughts are dried worms stuck on a summer sidewalk,
and there’re knives somewhere behind your eyeballs.
That your tongue is a cinderblock atop a dead and rotting squirrel.
That needles line your throat and birds fall from your sky.
That you’re a flower with no petals and no pollen,
refusing to die, in a state of perpetual wilt.
That you’re a cracked mirror, a stained rug, a stolen heirloom;
an amputee dog.
This is shame’s whisper; don’t’ listen
lest you start to believe and become dead snakeskin.

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Michael Vacek Date: 9/19/2017 9:12:00 PM I do like to give constructive criticisms. I am not an expert, you can ignore what I say next as I do like your poem. If I were you, I'd stop at heirloom. Delete everything else below except keep and end with the line, "this is shame's whisper; don't listen". If you don't like this suggestion, just delete this post and no one will ever know otherwise. The imagery above heirloom is bold and vibrant. Sometimes leaving a poem open ended is the best way to end.
Michael Vacek Date: 9/19/2017 9:02:00 PM Joey, I like this. I'm an avid outdoorsman.Thoughts are dried worms stuck on a summer sidewalk...tongue is a cinder block stop a dead and rotting squirrel. This Is Shame.

Michael Vacek

Date: 9/19/2017 9:12:00 PM

I do like to give constructive criticisms. I am not an expert, you can ignore what I say next as I do like your poem. If I were you, I'd stop at heirloom. Delete everything else below except keep and end with the line, "this is shame's whisper; don't listen". If you don't like this suggestion, just delete this post and no one will ever know otherwise. The imagery above heirloom is bold and vibrant. Sometimes leaving a poem open ended is the best way to end.

Michael Vacek

Date: 9/19/2017 9:02:00 PM

Joey, I like this. I'm an avid outdoorsman.Thoughts are dried worms stuck on a summer sidewalk...tongue is a cinder block stop a dead and rotting squirrel. This Is Shame.

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