dipping my stale bread

dipping my stale bread
in your holy chalice
I bet you disagree
but it makes no difference
whether you approve
or not

funny mushrooms
shoot like bright stars
from a molten earth
ready to light
coastal skies with hands
grabbing for day

reverberate you moon
amongst temporal gems
shine madly and full
above the realms of refuse
rolling to the fast music
of tall men

sailors on a watery run
mice and mucus
melt in the fire
of dark altar reverberations
one sold two for more
than anyone can pay for

remember the I folding
dirty laundry
the sake of being
visible in time
remember the chaos
that shaped wet beaches
the weeping mothers




Poetry by Bob
Read 671 times
Written on 2017-03-24 at 20:18

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Again I say that you are the master of combining things and making them work. Brilliant.
2017-03-29