Poem -

Hands

When paintbrush tips contain life-blood.

I imagine my hands
the tips of paintbrushes.

D e l i c a t e l y
    they brush the world around me.

Admittedly, the color is faint, but it does exist.

One day
    I will drown myself
       in that beautiful hair
    and
       the world
    will never be the same.
 

 

Like 1 Pin it 0
Support CosmoFunnel.com

Support CosmoFunnel.com

You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.

Log in to leave a comment.

Comments

Poem -

Liquids

Thoughts On The Water Cycle (Photo by Nick Nice on Unsplash)

Liquids

Collect yourself
and drip down the purest parts of you.

My cup runneth over
blessing...

Poem -

My Indistinguishable '...

The End of Loneliness

My heart reached out to you. I scowled and frowned, not possessing the necessary muscles to communicate...

Poem -

Touch

What we are seeking

Is it ridiculous to think

that what we seek from this digital ink

is to be understood,...

Latest poems in Elegy, Freestyle, Speculative

Poem -

Holes

Voids remain voids if they
Are cast off too long.

There is serious weight behind

...

Poem -

Matthew Scott Harris may be...

Matthew Scott Harris may be...

cunctatious, flirtatious, and unostentatious,
plus being calm, cool and collected,
but he...

Poem -

Light Deprived

Light Deprived

Time is the enemy
against illumination
and the advancing dimness
growing fainter by...

Advertise on CosmoFunnel.com