POETRY PRESUMES NO CARNAGE

i

Terribly sweet puppet of my dreams
How close is our zest for doom?
In pages of scrolls, our laboratory
A silver lavish alchemy of poetry
Dullest art to read, greatest
Strife to write, how can I
Cancel my kindness, that spills

ii

To rouse these sanctions from reality?
With a somewhat evil smile
I grin at these eternal rainbow labours
That binds faith to my living soul
In the mere mirage of miracled words

iii

These fairy voyages so rapt
In the moonward bend of unfettered dreams
That run and dance with rich palm-stars
This vortex of celebration without rim
Foam of superscription, literary galore
Last snowy sentences of compassion’s charm.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Winter-s-Poetry-11097351929

5 thoughts on “POETRY PRESUMES NO CARNAGE

  1. ….last snowy sentences of compassion’s charm….your poetry betrays the hart of a living bohdisattva…having said as such je ne suis pas d’accord avec toi mon poet maudit! i find poetry the nectar of the goods and prose the beer of the troglodytes…gassho, sacred warrior of the quill! ^^~~~~

    • Thank you, the photography site Deviant art does keep me busy hunting for glorious photography. And this is my favorite title of a poem I’ve had in months..

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