poem, poetry, writing

Snowglobe Memories

Ragged pieces of burnt paper

swirling around intricate statues,

sprinkling on vibrant flowers, dusting the petals.

Salt litters

then smothers grey ground.

Scraps hit and slide

along the clear and motionless horizon.

Emerald straw grows through black ashes

Which recollections did these jet pills used to be?

No one remembers.

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poem, poetry, writing

Dancing Rainbows

Twirling rainbows tap dance in the city

breaking street lamps

cutting through electricity

igniting humans in gold

hands overflowing with coins.

Twirling rainbows tap dance in the city

using humans as solar lights

until the coins run out

and gold flesh turns to bronze.

Humans grab and clutch their leaping dimes

which clang and shake along the path

as rainbow feet stomp in grey,

stumbling when bronze turns to coal

pausing as coal turns to ash,

and then stop when there’s no audience left.

Smothered by the city of fog

the children of ash grow up.

Slowly, the grey allows colours to sparkle through

and tiptoe through the city

dotting the path in gold

beckoning children to trip.

poetry, Uncategorized, writing

Immortal Corpses

Vampires long for the pearly light

yet are afraid of its sizzling caresses.

Their living is an irony

dead hearts stammer in walking corpses memories.

As minds decay fangs crave to taste running blood.

Immortal corpses become monstrous

while cold skin grows more ethereal;

too stunning for mirrors to portray

too barbaric for mirrors to sketch.

The maddening darkness claims them for good

for if they dared to escape

and fight the beckoning night

the pearly light will scold with blisters

choking vampires on their own ashes.

 

poetry, writing

Stardust Memories

Stardust lingers on my hands

icy rain dances on my bed

memories of destroyed lands

sweetens the misery in my head

Stars are jealous when I weep

moon’s glow soothes me to sleep.

Yet sneaking under the stars observation

shadows reunite in darkness

digging black fingers through the mess

poisoning the moon’s protection

as bones squirm through the frosty night

splintering the mirrors sight.

The elephant clock reluctantly turns

trapping night terrors within mornings burns

I cry in vain as the new day fades

while still shadows plot new games to play.