Cracked Lips

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  • GeniusMan
  • When push comes to shove, conga lines can get pretty ugly.

Poem Commentary

Poop. All the time. Okay, so I left and came back to this poem and apparently I wrote this as a comment. I laughed for a minute and then decided I'm keeping it. Regardless, that title is terrible and the poem is mediocre, but this is what you'll have to hold onto if the comment section is letting you down.

Cracked Lips

Have you heard
 the trickling source
   you call a mouth
is drying up?

Your words are now
 no longer known
  are running out
and dying from,

An aching need
 to empty voids,
  stop hogging things
you think you think.

My ears will bleed
 all dehydrate
  you're robbing me
from when you speak.

Where once was fill
 of basic taste
  no longer there
but left to hung,

The drought of thoughts
 with sands of sound
  leaves deserts near
a swolen tongue.

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

GeniusMan’s Poems (63)

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