Mesmerized by ocean’s rattle,I curl the thorns of the lilyinto the sway of red craters,cracked fossils; the possibilitythat unearths into a singlebloodline, staved in winter’s digits;I’ve cried for shadows offather’s uproots, whilsthe remembers Mother Nature’sfare. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Written for the dVerse prompt: Scribble us a poem of possibility using just 44 words, including some … Continue reading Ocean rattle.
with the last flower, traveled and scrawled from our mind—across the sun. the moon cracks and reddens as death comes to stardust. ebony époque hikes to the yellow tourniquets; and in-utero shells, plasma glass, her eyes are mine; maniac moon devours the limb to the stars clotted in bones/rocks. I dream between the blood from … Continue reading last flower.
in a ghost of the moon; archaic dreams cross the ocean; idled mind the hawthorn spume and Earth’s red moon, estranged to the headstone fare to ash-heaps and dissociation down the bones of beanstalk and the ghost, the moon, reddened mirrors of ourselves to feet of God, light lies … Continue reading earth’s red.
Of one memory, one for the end of the dark does not lie, I will not lie in it; darkness perfused I shut the window; here he bleeds, here he lies, though nothing is there. In furrows, mercy, it is laughable. The Earth succinct in waves in a lonely larva the dead poet’s dreams. Stand … Continue reading A sea becomes.