Sunday, October 16, 2011

On My Sleeve

Submitted for "Taboo" prompt

On my sleeve
The dust of things I want to say
Those who pray
That I disagree
Those who I love, who will never know
Those whose disdain for me, that I don’t understand

On my sleeve

On my sleeve
The ribbed and diverse life that I want
The life that I can’t have
The place I long my nephews and nieces to see
Far off rocks sans minerals and order



On my sleeve

On my sleeve
A wiped off drink
Red with the cranberry in the red of my heart
Saliva of a rambling man
Or a rolling stone like my father
Cracked and split, to spread the granite
Buttered over the meadow, no sorrow
For the subsequent, to unfold

On my sleeve

A queen of thorns
Fruit from the vines of my veins
Woven ‘round the tree I planted
She lays nailed to the cross I bear
In the cave I hibernate, wait
How innate, this seems to be
The seething hate, that I hate, within me

On my sleeve

The caged bird setting sail
Her wings too big for incarceration
The bleu eyed duchess and her aristocratic ways
Seduces my eyes, feathers my palms
Flows through my fingers

She’s on my sleeve

In my heart
On my lips
Off of my tongue
Into my pen
Through your eyes


Washed away

From my sleeve