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Untitled . . . .

Post by BC Williams on Sun 30 Jan 2011, 2:02 am

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Clasped in starkness of enemy's cold-calm;
shivered sighs of mine to him insolent -
just volumes of my blatant disbelief.
How has the depth of his gull reached this pinnacle?

My heart-love tentacle fades with each casting of sleek new lies . . .

at best my mind festers, wandering eternity's rise
where wrongs are righted and hearts aren't
blighted with drunkard's greed.
Will he never see what he's done to me?

Numbness should be my glory.
Of course lack of trust is his stale story,
contrived of a mind weak -
his failings too obtuse to catch
breath of it's putrid stench within.

And I know what I've seen,
what I've believed couldn't be
for in my stupor, I've unfolded a nightmare
of 'grownup' child needs.

I want him collapsed crisply
into a pile of squared nothingness
I might toss asunder -
that then, my thundering heart may soon loose the reins
of my enemy's relentless plunder . . . .

June, 2008 by BC Williams


<< Feminine
Or perhaps another category of poems?
Inmorata - Trope - Kids
Humor - Agape - Nature
Miscellaneous

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'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth
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BC Williams
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http://www.bpoetry.net/

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