deepundergroundpoetry.com
He bleeds in Wonder
swirls of colours in his mind
the red and the look of rusts
blood on a highway
bruises on his skin
he bleeds
collars turning russets
head in blazing ache
red hot lava
waiting to be born
again and again
his arms
crisscrossed with unseen marks
bleeding tears of hurts
he is alone
and he grieves.
the red and the look of rusts
blood on a highway
bruises on his skin
he bleeds
collars turning russets
head in blazing ache
red hot lava
waiting to be born
again and again
his arms
crisscrossed with unseen marks
bleeding tears of hurts
he is alone
and he grieves.
Published 7th Sep 2015
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7th Sep 2015 8:33am
Very interesting imagery... You are on a roll on you poetry highway tonight. It appears someone keeps crashing on the road and suffering from terminal reincarnation...
JJ
JJ
7th Sep 2015 8:44am
You got that right, Poetryman. The only thing is its daylight here. I am crashing into your night. And people die on the highway all the time...big bikers... professed hells angels and drug addicts taking a dive. This life is full of hurt and people hurt in so many ways. Thanks for reading me:).
7th Sep 2015 11:37am
What an interesting poem. Someone I work with just had a biker friend pass away after the effects of a motorcycle accident. He lingered for two weeks in the hospital waiting to 'be born again'. Life is indeed full of hurt.
7th Sep 2015 12:13pm
edead, true. Life is full of hurts. Coincidentally someone I care about has a friend who also died in a bike accident. I think he is still mourning. Sad that.:) Thanks for reading.
7th Sep 2015 7:30pm
I imagine someone trying to remain stoic despite his wounds. Standing alone can make it a lot worse. This could be a biker, or anyone else trying to hang tough. Fine work Grace!
8th Sep 2015 4:56am
Two scenes here...the dead biker and his grieving friend who feel the pain even though he is not physically hurt. Thanks Crowfly for reading.
8th Sep 2015 10:42am
9th Sep 2015 1:30am
