“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“How are you?”
“Good, you?”
“Ssshh…”
Somewhere the earth shakes loose
the limber arms and tears back the skin
revealing horrors unlike any ever seen,
unlike anything ever witnessed,
but deep beneath the horror, beauty shines,
deep beneath the horror, whispers
wafting through the windswept willows
weeping nothing more than smiles,
and laughing cold maniacal, emotionless,
beautiful in the twisted blistered glory,
and as the sun melts away
to some smoldering celestial briquette
and the earth darkens and shakes loose bondage,
life will have found a way.
“…did you hear that?”
“I didn’t hear it.”
“Not anything?”
“Nope.”
“Ok then.”
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Poem-A-Day: Day 308
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