words pressed to my forehead

ready to explode,

winters long wait for suns awakening,

there is no lamb in a killers eyes,

transmit feeling with each moment

breathing

knowledge escaping,

the future is out of it’s cage

unsure unsteady,

dandelion clocks dispel

it is worlds end

lighthouse of the precipice ,

word pressure tighter,

saliva wet in the mouth

like kisses from a hungry dog,

broken waves are heard

noise visible on open window,

human that feeling and being

cannot be sold,

those words are hurting

urging through skin

cracking skull bone,

my brain resists

textured ripe as an open fruit

solid as that sweet nut of pleasure,

i will continue

and watch you go adrift

on the longest wave

beyond beacon light,

nine thoughts exposed

from heaven

intermittent pulses

a cruel birth as i watch in silence,

forgetting that the past had been

imprinted with us,

this place with meadow near

would fall into ruin

without us

Wyeth, Jamie lighthouse-dandelions

 

magpie tales statue stamp 185

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Comments
  1. Kutamun says:

    The future is indeed out of its cage , exploding out of all our skulls, i thought this was fantastic, cheers mate

  2. Helen Dehner says:

    Mr. Wyeth would be mightily impressed with your poetry … I am.

  3. Berowne says:

    Innovative and holding; very well done.

  4. Susan says:

    This poem made me feel like the biggest case of writer’s block had been broken and set free to float off into the ether … a fine word trip you gave me today … thank you.

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