Love is gone
Like autumn’s visit to a tree
Feelings ring through like a gong
on racers’ heel
Charred words
Rip off my smouldering tongue
As a leaf off a coal
Needless to say
the world has moved on
since madiba’s home call
Love is gone
Like autumn’s visit to a tree
Feelings ring through like a gong
on racers’ heel
Charred words
Rip off my smouldering tongue
As a leaf off a coal
Needless to say
the world has moved on
since madiba’s home call
Nights like this
I want to
Strike away
At the keyboard
Like a player
Against a goalpost
I want to
Burst
A vein and bleed
Feelings
Like a cow
At the dairy
I want to
Punch away
Every stroke
In sync with beats
Rocking out
In my head
On a night like this
I want to
Abandon the sheets
and run into the embrace of the stars
Let’s meet at the crossroad
Where sacrifices are offered in alphabets
Let’s capture whisper
And mooch out a syllable
Let’s sew syllables
In seamless similes
Let’s plough paragraphs
And pry on phrases
Let’s wring wordiness
For a punch of punctuation
Let’s clothe nouns in gerunds
Adorned in adjectives, flowery verse
Perfumed metaphors and chaperoned by prose
And, maybe, just maybe
We would understand the science of semantics
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Brian Marggraf, Author of Dream Brother: A Novel, Independent publishing advocate, New York City dweller
Mavens of Mayhem and Chroniclers of Fantasy
With Pen on Paper, I scribble about people and emotions
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