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Sea Plankton Dreams
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Night So, you think you know the whole story,
From the flowery beginning to its brutal end,
The twist and turns of a wysteria vine,
Strangler of a host.
Sound familiar?
A timely transformation from an unknown frontier
To a constant cliché.
My heart resembles little more than a mushy plum
Smashed beneath your stone feet
That match your granite heart,
Uncracking even when love stomps out of sight.
Three words portray a faulty lie,
But mirror a grim truth,
You conceive it as love,
But then murder it with hate of a hundred hydras,
Familiar in this “fairytale”,
A marauding monster hoards my dreams,
And regurgitates nightmares in their place.
Arctic waters swirl gray and white.
Whirlpools engulf words,
Sea plankton, No more, No less,
Breakable, rottable wooden emotions
Drowned at sea
And beached to dry, crumble,
And Disappear.
Your writing style is strong and fluid to the point where it's nearly tiresome to read; not in a dull way, but in a worn-out, tired, brain overloaded by your mighty imagery sort of way. Two poems and a story, and I feel like a nap. Maybe it's just because I'm and old man.