tridents poke at merciless sky

tridents poke at merciless sky
scaled and drip drop
hands of dark intention
trample soft skin innocence
into powder of yesterday

weird tools of impossibility
plant their purpose firmly
in the afterbirth of tomorrow
stand of birds hover
until night finally is night

serendipity he said to me
it's a roll of the dice
a crossroad a need to choose
a needle in the great ocean
and emptied his glass




Poetry by Bob
Read 647 times
Written on 2014-05-30 at 23:26

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Impressive poetry! Your imagery in poetry is like what you must see through the lens of your camera. I see you looking at the senseless war and launching of missiles that destroy at random. Beautifully done.
2014-05-31