Perfumed TonguePerfumed TonguePerfumed Tongue
It's early morning and I can taste
flowing blood from broken speech. Time to wake and remember "Family is a state of mind" with a nervous
disposition.
Scarecrow sits next to me again. Only today, it's me beside, inside
and outside myself. An energetic effigy for two.
HeartbeefHeartbeefHeartbeef
Sandy by name, nature and colour. She tells herself, once again, "tears are nothing more than glass on a picture frame.
What is desire to ease of life?"
Sandy by name is shorter than peace, taller than fear but always tears are flowing down the glass over picasso prints.
"Denial, isn't that a river?"
Sandy by heart, every line and ledge. He tells himself, once again, "she is nothing less than glass between lost and found"
Little boy lost, little girl
Poet's FollyPoet's FollyPoet's Folly
I'm turning into a Shahrazad sentimentalist. Turning all my problems into a thousand and one little tales to make sure I wake up in the morning.
Alladin keeps my mistress in a rusted lamp.
I'm writing a book with pieces of broken buildings. Then, in a thousand years, all the little people can take sides and debate just how true the truth is.
Who wants a genie in a leather bodice?
I'm grinding my wit down to a dull yet smiling surface. Then, tearing off the pieces fo
Why?
Confused
There'll be a fair bit of poetry coming this way but take what you want (and leave what you don't)
- Owen
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