March Madness Top Ten: Ligeia, under dimmed lights/Oloriel

My poem on Sudden Denouement! Please go and read the rest of the amazing submissions. You will not regret it!

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Cracked like the skyline

at 18:11

countless men mine me for coal;

I suck the midday Moon

like a good symbiot,

like a pretty harlot of war,

I search myself at the garage sale,

I hollow me out,

unlatch the hands like instruments,

lick and spit,

soft, but I am dust –

disassembled to a murder of crows.

This blood builds altars between teeth,

this ocean is godless,

I am

77 silver coins shoved in the socket,

the worthlessness of thoraxes

is speaking tongues –

translated it means I who no longer know dawn.

I, eyeing this river, a carnival, alone.

I, no longer knowing the sparrows

for their marrow of strawberries,

I, stuffing the pillow with hares,

my ventricle for Doctor Death,

My mouth for the athame,

for you, lover, among decapitated carnations,

for you lover, your silences like noose

around the neck of promiscuous Miss mercy.

Now, sugar…

View original post 316 more words

Advertisements

~ by Oloriel on May 4, 2017.

6 Responses to “March Madness Top Ten: Ligeia, under dimmed lights/Oloriel”

  1. 🖤🖤🖤

  2. I feel certain that Poe would be as enchanted as I am…

  3. Congratulations! ❤

Tell me something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

 
MORALITY PARK

Arts & Lit Collective

Shawn Kilroy Was Here

my life as an unknown musician

CALIATH

POETRY

Darkness of His Dreams

Poetry & Prose by John W. Leys

she is not fragile

look what she has withstood

Green Not Hazel

one leaf, another, a blade of grass, a tree, a forest - a story

GibberJabber

Poetry, short stories and idiosyncratic gobbledygook

Book Monkey

Book Reviews and Nature Walks

Silently Smouldering Words

Poetry and things like that

Otisak na displeju

Od izvora dva putića, do izvora samo jedan...

In~between

sketches of life and clips of dreams

Syl65's Blog

Poetry, creative writing and a desire to inspire..... Isaiah 40: 31 But they who wait upon the Lord will get new strength. They will rise up with wings like eagles. They will run and not get tired. They will walk and not become weak..

Clacks Header

A massively unofficial fan site to remember Sir Terry Pratchett

Poet's Parlor

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

%d bloggers like this: