Changes are uncharted oceans, and the guilty glimmer of your guarded eyes,
are bermuda triangle traps, tapping sos lures to lift my soul into security, false as the lashes that line those slits called irises;
Yet so clearly each blink, signals scissor cuts; into the complicated course of freedom, the foundation of my scattered songs, sending vibrations towards the violence in my blood.
I border on benevolence, yet occassionally open to the darker hues of happiness; the lusting of life; gluttony for grief- envy for every epiphany passing me so promptly.
Yet sunk so knee-deep in sloth; and wound up in web-threads of wrath which wearies me, and my picture of pride so pretty.
Greed engulfs the gradual wishes which wane the light lifing my eyes- and hers.
We’re the same person.
Author notes
I wrote
[This was just the way of things-]
and, [I learned the continuing cycle-]
short poetry.
Just a rant/experiment.
A contest entry
- I Love Short Poems by silverscent.
430 points, ended March 11, 2007, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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The whole idea you had in this write was very interesting, the end line made the previous click into place. You showed a wide range of vocab, although in places it may have been a little too much. Your use of alliteration was powerful though. Thanks for entering.
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