Lost poems

Lost poems sing without their withins
Bled poems sing within

Their shunted snouts   without their
Clanged nails and

Whispered burials   within their willed
Shells, the fires of

Tombs & wombs & tentacled orbits
As close as skin

12 comments on “Lost poems

  1. tmezpoetry says:


  2. thotpurge says:

    The fire of tombs and wombs close to the skin of a bleeding poem … come to think of it,

    we have nothing else
    to bake our tear-wet poems in,
    but the secret kiln
    of our beginning and ending…

    Thanks for sharing 🙂

  3. These are profound words. 🙂

  4. Daedalus Lex says:

    Great poem — image and concept — richly suggestive without boxing us in too tightly on meaning. Also, just the right length 🙂

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