deepundergroundpoetry.com
Gave bluebells and got Blueballs
Words flowed
against the flesh of the evening
soft as lips in storms
erupting drops from ponds
hitched to the backs of swells
like blues beneath bloody bruises
muted pain in songs
waking whispers
breathless gasps
muffled sighs
and half heard meanings
worth as much
as a grain of sand buried
in covetous shade on the far
side of a beating desert wind
dark and hidden
but soft and giving
beneath the palms of your feet
until in time the dunes lean enough
for a glint of pain in your step
and the waves come crashing
bringing no waters within the salt
when they crash against the cliff
they resound with the sound of
"no"
against the flesh of the evening
soft as lips in storms
erupting drops from ponds
hitched to the backs of swells
like blues beneath bloody bruises
muted pain in songs
waking whispers
breathless gasps
muffled sighs
and half heard meanings
worth as much
as a grain of sand buried
in covetous shade on the far
side of a beating desert wind
dark and hidden
but soft and giving
beneath the palms of your feet
until in time the dunes lean enough
for a glint of pain in your step
and the waves come crashing
bringing no waters within the salt
when they crash against the cliff
they resound with the sound of
"no"
Published 12th Apr 2014
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12th Apr 2014 3:32am
12th Apr 2014 4:31pm
Wonderfully wicked title, although it's not as elegant as the poem itself... Totally clued me in though, and such graceful flow. You're on a roll, Dys.
