Thrice for the Joan’s and Juliet’s

Poetry 0 comments

Kisses to the girl lying bloodied in the trenches;

Cabernet dripping from her tear ducts in distasteful rosy plumes.

Her right arm is buried below

Bodies she once loved as the canary sings

Allelulia, alleluia

To her feathers still imprisoned in a cage made of

Pilastered bones.

Not all of us are guaranteed eternal flight;

And the songbird grows intoxicating as

Satin slips into the corners of her vision

And music drifts out of her ears;

Holes in the stratosphere;

Ever so slowly they form from the carbon she exhales.

Visibility never came at such an

Unforeseen price.

And her mother hangs a white flag from the

Door of their colonial as

Her lover begs for answers from the

Deities in his head

And the Bibles rest unopened as the

War a-rages on

And she’s maniacally drunk off the supply of life she saved

For moments just like this.

The king has been dethroned and the city

Sleeps in shambles

But don’t pity her; she’d always dreamed of rest.

And every voice is quiet now

As fire grieves for graceless prowess

And engulfs seven billion hopes of ever watching the sky shimmer unpigmented.

Alas

Still one girl lies bloodied in the trenches

And no one is looking for her here

And so it is silent;

Though the ground is cackling with infernus blasphemists

She hears only her lungs

And cold air never tasted so blissfully like hearthstone.

It is masterful deceit;

It is shadow-shrouded greed;

It is the exorcism of telluric need;

It is peace.

Kisses to the girl lying bloodied in the trenches;

For only one can rest in the earth and not once fear the

Balance.

For only one can soak into the soil and not once fear the

Lonely.

Kisses to the first tree sprouted

In the Garden of Flora;

Watered with wishes and

Bottles of Cabernet.

Happy World Poetry Day!

 

 

Author lifebylexi

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