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Tag: Poetry
Five Things In Leaving
Left a place, a person, a state of grace, Not my choice, but accepting it nonethless, Did the noble thing despite the screaming inside, Wanted her to see me leave, to see if my leaving mattered, But said 'sure, it's fine, go,' And took myself away, What I left behind were pieces Which never healed … Continue reading Five Things In Leaving
You, My Moon.
All men are wolves, We sniff, piss and fuck But the moon, to each of us, wears different faces And different times. You, my moon, Above me, in the coldest reaches, How you rolled a cigarette, the marked fingers caressing magic From the mundane The way you drank beer from the bottle, Made my mouth … Continue reading You, My Moon.
One last thing
One last thing The smell of you Before I sleep Feelings I don't have words for
Tribute
I would feast you in my great hall bathe in hot springs make love to you underneath the old tree Like the kings of old under the ancient gods rest against my chest and hear the roar of glory which echoes with each beat of my heart
Volume
Wet Alive Far from cold More akin to the elemental forces Prompting the rain against the window Lengths, depths and widths rendered illusory Pores threaded, so each utterance you give Tugs me all over my skin The strong, alien gravity Ducts the fluid from me We are powerful fists Closing Cradling with deliberate tenderness These … Continue reading Volume
MB Blissett 