- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Inquisition 2012
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Click hereRuins of frail temporal minds
once sustained stability
in patterns of silvery crescendo.
Now , their forsaken kindred
hail beyond grey granite
as blackbirds of sorrow,
dwelling in bitter aftertaste
with their silicon dimension.
Dominions from limbo
spew webs of black tannin
as they perch upon
doomsday rocks
stitched from old grey goats,
whose coattails ride on wings
with the man in moon.
- COMMENTS
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 36,000 poems.
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Loved your poem, I felt like buzzards were circling overhead.
ty,bd
Not the first time I've felt that way.
and interesting imagery. to me it seems to have to do with the intuitive state of affairs. as to the number...i'm not sure if it is significant or not, but it makes me think of paperwork. the number is very close to one of my favorite bands album of 2112 by rush.