PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It rained all night. 
Heaving up the dawn immaculately, at my window 
the lake crashed on white sands. 
A lone tree 
smelt of mist and grief. 
A fury had submerged a road 
leading to a forgotten childhood. 
Knives and pins 
clouds and bins- 
a hate crime erupts between the teeth. 
You meditate sitting on an anthill 
to recover the lost bones. 

Why don’t you leave the country 
for good, 
the empty vessel, incense and dirty coins? 

For conceptual pain, the snake licks the breasts 
of a white goddess, with a forked tongue 
for sweet milk. 
The hungry womanhood cries holding on to morality. 

The memory leaks. 
You go back to your gods 
for renunciation.