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falcons and warm paste.

Contributed by blackmarker on Monday, 24th October 2005 @ 11:23:47 PM in AEST
Topic: Holiday Poetry

Rainbow nails are ripped from their tender beds,
Foolishly, stubbornly trapped in stone prisons.
Moss creeps, like a green sloth; manoeuvring. Engulfing.
It’s taken so long to escalate; now that we’re here, enjoy the ride.
Hold on tight, and don’t forget to scream.
(He loves it when they scream!)
Tongues puckered, mouths twisted, gaping maws like intemerate caverns. Aching to be explored.
Echoing, rattling, musty and damp.
Quaking (like a cave-in) anticipating (ravenous mud-slide)
Inestimable and frail things, fouled eternally.
While the tide rushes in, the faith rushes out.
Praying for salvation from non-existence? Ridiculous.
Your Father can’t save you now.
Skin sliced thin, like apples and cheeses; a raspberry soufflé.
Ribcage cracked wide – a new heart, doctor?
These blue skies are bleeding to grey.
Shooting stars aren’t enough, but they unfocus the ache.
Fingers crack? Oh, no baby. They’re broken.
Well-water drips; a melancholy beat, pounding against your brain.
Ready to bleed, real soon.
Leaking from blistered eyes – black and blue, sewn shut. Screwed up tight.
Clouds raining in your heart, fatality number two?
Another canary, my dear; dessert.
He got you alone, lured. A fish on a line.
String-scissors; indulge his appetite one more time.
(Last accident, I swear.)
The price is high; goblets and tumblers.
Tumblers? Aerial acrobat artists; Alice and her anger.
Down the wellspring;
he wishes you a torturous Christmas.

Copyright Â© blackmarker ... [ 2005-10-24 23:23:47]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: falcons and warm paste. (User Rating: 1 )
by Uncertain_Oblivion on Thursday, 21st September 2006 @ 11:45:45 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

hmmmm, this was pretty weird, and that's a good thing. I liked it.

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