PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The early sun is small

And stares me down

Burns a hole in my forehead

Tells me to..



"Wake up!

For the night is foul

No more can come from it

My morning's ripe and fare

So pick the purplest plum of them all

And let your nose grow soggy

With moist smooth air

Grow soggy like a spongue

And chubby like the chubby cheeks

That hold up my chubby grin

My chubby grin but burly gats

That you shall never pass"



"But that night not served me wrong

Nor shallowed thoughts dripped down to right

Oh, why so unsure to trust

And melt the prison bars over my mouth

To speak free and fare

Out into the peeling air?"