Poem -
deep pits + high moons
My thoughts turn to earth
To fine dust and pebbles, to fat
worms and deep pits and high
moons and death
And to all it might mean
To be layed, Without breath,
But the whisky stays sober, it will
utter no words
And if gods hear my questions
They pretend they've not heard
as my thoughts turn to fine dust
and pebbles, to earth
To the peace that I was once
Before I was birthed
And the high moon is laughing
the whisky is cool, the gods utter
no words
And I am the fool.
M ~
Like 3 Pin it 2
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
fuck, if I could pin more accolades to this page, then I would .. believe me I've tried every which way and now need to get a replacement forefinger, keyboard and screen xx
Lol...seriously I don't take such praise from you lightly my friend, and therefore I am very chuffed ( welsh for very pleased indeed) that you like it...💕
..................................... my absolute pleasure my treasure x
The thing I love most about what I read from you dear Marion, is that it's raw, no thrills just raw truth in emotions that have nowhere to hide and it's truly magnificent. You bring it all onto the table and the reader (I) am in awe of how you make me inspired, you have a way of finishing your poems that's truly genius and the best part is I know it is a natural skill you own. Superb, always in Sync with your work when it's on these subjects, I have my own ghosts to share with. 🌹 Thank you.
Shirley I cannot express how touched I am by the truly generous, kind and beautiful words you have written here. You are a beautiful soul...hugs X