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your just desserts
Folder:
whole lotta other stuff
tell me where it hurts
does the pain come in spurts?
does it sting and burn your eyes?
does it throb make you want to die?
tell me where it hurts
does the pain write poetry and wicked words?
does it ring in your ears and feel absurd?
does it slip off your lip and sound slurred?
tell me where it hurts
until it reasserts, for all the megalomaniacs perverts,
and all the addicted converts, where the pain and pleasure inserts,
avoiding all the signs and alerts, it does not just ooze it squirts…
screaming out at you with 50,000 mega-hertz, you feel that, they are your just desserts…
Fighting to the last
Fighting to the last breath.. human instinct for survival. Whatever poetry must not have "wicked words" since plenty of readers out there. With a little sugar coating *(like yours) everything is readable. But Sir pessimism oozes from your lines. Maybe I didn't get the hang of your poem. Reminds me of hard boozy long nights followed by hangover mornings. Booz to kill pain or booze to enjoy ................ I was left wondering and wandering in my chain of thoughts. Almost got drunk. Well written Sir.
©bishu
Great expressions in this...
Great expressions in this... I like "does it slip off your lip and sound slurred?"... you said a mouthful there. LOL
~peace~
..............
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "