Sorcerer he imagined days of virtuosity
those hours of maniac creativity.
Ladies and only ladies objected to his mighty chicken;
but never a ladies man, he was a bloke
Now as his mind became flat with hay
and ethered breaths as he lay.
Pancing back and forth in strange darkness,
gazed at the sky full of moons in naked starkness.
Mother stood in embellished wedding frock,
a chalky dream, it was never to be a cakewalk.
Midst cat droppings, and shattered dreams
he wished to defile a flower again.
But he was nothing but a Mad Man
good…he should meet the Innocent Man…😯😯
Lol, this comment left me cackling 😆
In my mind I penned a Kafkaesque masterpiece… 🤪🤪
I bet you write a novel in your mind everyday…thinks Ms. T.
True that, I’m just in a fantasy world every minute penning a novel 🙂
Like Jane Austin I’m a gonna begin with a philosophy….
“ It is a truth universally accepted that a middle aged woman and an old man has lot in common than they think… both are bored of their wits and as are hunting for time pass”
perfect ..I’d buy it ❤️
🙂
❤️, Still have to think on that
me too 😯
❤❤❤
a fevered dream of a poem —
To tell you the truth, John I actually had a low grade fever when I premed this was last week🙄🙄 hence the fevered dream.
it shows; hope you’re okay now 🙂
Thanks John, yes I’m much better, exposure time cold I guess …
Excellent.
Reminds me of some of H.P. Lovecraft’s poetry (Lovecraft was better known for his short stories but he did write poetry).
Hi Drac, I’ve not read H.P Lovecraft, should read his work. I’m glad you liked this, just penned last week. How are things with you? Did you find something?