SUNSTROKE

3 Comments

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  • Death

    SUNSTROKE

    Eyelids heavy with memories
    Cover lights and shadows of a hospital in ruins.
    A baby with grown-up fingers
    Reads the past in Braille
    Barely touching the meaning of broken cobblestone streets of her past.
    Her fingertips retract like eyes of snails back into the present
    Where handsome men - immoral in their animalism -
    try to understand LOVE for the very first time.
    Great White sharks kill tri-athletes and place them in immortality
    as writers reach the end of the journey frustrated by their lack of gills ...
    The torrid yellow burden rolls down incinerated crystals between her breasts
    She senses people as zigzags with burglarized drawers
    rhythmically roaming up and down the Riviera...
    The ocean breeze murmurs: “ Michelle, my belle...”, “ I love you, I love you, I looove
    you...”
    Invading her nostrils with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee
    and the smell of barbeque that, once she could digest.
    The sun drops gold coins into the turquoise as they ricochet into her
    degenerating eyes.
    I see myself in her from the above as unscrupulous tides rip open our sandy
    abdomen
    Violently sucking my body's sand sculpture back to the undertow.
    It's almost dusk and seagulls fly through me to a secret shelter I wish I had...
    I'm scared to fall asleep as I might wake up without wings
    while numbness's taking over my bleeding shoulder blades...

    "The body of a peddler with broken clocks on sale
    was found tonight
    on the landing pad of a hospital in ruins"

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    Seosev commented on SUNSTROKE

    05-14-2009

    Outstanding! Your abstract-visual-acuity (If there is such a label) is extraordinary. You communicate on so many levels. I am blown away!

    muttman1 commented on SUNSTROKE

    01-19-2009

    i added this one to my favorites

    lonewolf commented on SUNSTROKE

    12-29-2008

    very interesting poem, well written. I enjoyed it.

    To have great poets there must be great audiences too.

    Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)

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