deepundergroundpoetry.com
Sing of Nothing
Jagged crashes drag me back
to breathing aloud,
the escape too brief
to heal me.
A bundle of blades, cruel
icicles cling;
my predictions
live inside.
The slats seep flashes
I’d rather miss.
Deep drifts wither,
drained to land.
Blind winds, slick
with uneasiness,
sing of nothing.
Published 13th Jan 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 0
comments 6
reads 879
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
13th Jan 2018 7:28am
welcome
back.
it's a dark place
indeed
the expression lands the reader in
-sing of nothing.
back.
it's a dark place
indeed
the expression lands the reader in
-sing of nothing.
14th Jan 2018 6:43am
Thank you CF.
Pleased this caught your eye. I may wander these halls a little, see where words take me.
Pleased this caught your eye. I may wander these halls a little, see where words take me.
15th Jan 2018 5:49pm
17th Jan 2018 7:26pm
Anonymous
- Edited 13th Jan 2018 10:00am
13th Jan 2018 9:59am
Bloody hell. Tank girl!!!
I thought my page had glitched when you came up in my poems list... welcome back, lady.
This poem is riddled with dark imagery. I like the fact that we usually use the term “sing of joy” but the addition of “nothing” here really adds a dark twist to the whole piece. Seems as though this poem felt nothing. Is made of nothing. Is born of nothing.
So, so sad.
Thank you for sharing with us.
I thought my page had glitched when you came up in my poems list... welcome back, lady.
This poem is riddled with dark imagery. I like the fact that we usually use the term “sing of joy” but the addition of “nothing” here really adds a dark twist to the whole piece. Seems as though this poem felt nothing. Is made of nothing. Is born of nothing.
So, so sad.
Thank you for sharing with us.
14th Jan 2018 6:46am
Missy, you lovely thing, thanks for the nod.
Consider me another temperamental artist with a temporal disposition. No idea when or why.
Sing - trust you to note that. Sharp as always.
Consider me another temperamental artist with a temporal disposition. No idea when or why.
Sing - trust you to note that. Sharp as always.
