lips smudged black
abby roads
as colors turn page
after page
into a whirlwind
cut-out on a pheonix wing
strands of DNA
become telepathic
He sits in the dark corners of the diningroom
while his family eats their knives
with cojoling screams
and he wants to know if this is it
burnt red
I could be
a man if you wanted me to need
to be then
. . .
the demons in my closet beg to steal
the heartache or the zeal
from a glass
I see no Jesus here
no sunbeam on my shoulder
it is not visible to my black eyes
as the snake performs his act again
hissing into my ears or from
somewhere outside them
within them
nevermind.
Author notes
2. Anti-Christ
A contest entry
- Deep, Dark and Lovely by Shantti.
400 points, ended October 6, 45 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
Wow, this is deep. I love your use and take on the prompt. Your metaphors are quite exceptional (leaves me speechless).
Awesoem work, thank you so much for entering.
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