Singularity of Salvaged Debris

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131 words
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Liar
Liar
59 Followers

I'm a poem.
Essence squeezed from between clenched teeth,
trickled down an aching jaw
and fallen to a fever ignited
in the blink of an island perished.

Augustinus, Ansgar and angst will have you this time,
tie you to the conquistador's wheel
and titter in glee
as the last remains of Europa as we knew it
pass into darkness.

The heavens sing no more.
Ethics are laughing stock
at the end of iron tipped floggers.

But I'm a poem,
and I will prevail.

Churning my mantra relentless,
until Thebes resurrected,
Acropolis elevated,
tint the sky opaque once more
and the old songs echo.

Because all that is will remain,
and all that never were will eventually not be
again, when I break free.

I'm a poem.
Somebody,
please listen
to me.

Liar
Liar
59 Followers
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8 Comments
lindianalindianaover 18 years ago
Excellent

This one is my favorite of yours. So wonderful. Such talent. Thank you for sharing.

WickedEveWickedEvealmost 19 years ago
excellent poem

Definitely one of your best.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
^

Your titles are outstanding reflections of your poetic sense. Listening, heard and mulling in the salvaged essence of the work.. nicely done

Du Lac~

ishtatishtatalmost 19 years ago
Interesting

There's a lot packed in here and it needs multiple reads but is well worth it. Thanks

Bridget69Bridget69almost 19 years ago
Yes...

you are a poem which endlessly offers enchanting words and visions, just as this one has.

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