Tagged: poem 26

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Punk Poet

I’m freshly germinated, I’m learner plated, regurgitating circa eighties post punk poetry, trying to see how many times I can fit fuck into a sentence until I’m saying it – relentlessly. Fuck you! Fuck me!...

Grey Nude 0

Excess

Artful vessel is the hand: encountering the world’s interstices, plumbing imperative and mystery. It is infant and mother in rapt communion, a supplicant’s devotion distilled in a clasp, lotus of ethereal apsara in bloom,...

Couple 0

Present: Arms

Intense is the new cool She made it Before her there was silence Shadows gossiped in the empty space She fills Now we talkin’ rough stuff Now we talkin’ She made it with him...

Dreamy Peak 0

The Seekers

Tell me you love me with ways beyond words Where our minds hope to reach Past the snows of Kilimanjaro From heated positions upon the plains Through points above the horizon Where what we...