untitled no. 2 Trapped within a cream cocoon Spectrum of blues and greys Promises of sweet decay Sprayed by the light of luneuntitled no. 2
Just wither like blossoms Birth is the father of disease &
this is extravagance? Push and push, out of the whimsy womb Enter the beautifully grotesque ballroom Dancers with their masquerade masks Why do they, butterfly-wannabe? No one asks...this is extravagance?
lozzaboti fingering freckles down your bony shoulder blade; my first scratch-nlozzaboti
your mother kisses youHow the mother must feel When from the husk comes a moth Instead of a black and gold monarch A moth that eats holes into the cloth Into her dress, into her home, into her How she must feel and whom does she hate The womb that incubated the bastard Perhaps the seed that planted the rotten fruit Or the chapped mouth that feeds and kissesyour mother kisses you
The old farmer trades her some red and white beans And she drops them next to the cradle Out comes the towering beanstalk from the cracks Its vines twist around the neck of Children Squeezing and squeezing And mothers kee
--
"My road to hell is paved with good intentions."
-M.T.H.
--
i like to
put haikus where they
don't belong.
--
"Bad art is more tragically beautiful than good art, because it documents human failure."
--
we will fold and freeze together far away from here.--
we will fold and freeze together far away from here.--
"Bad art is more tragically beautiful than good art, because it documents human failure."
--
we will fold and freeze together far away from here.I really like your gallery! You're definitely worth following!
--
"Bad art is more tragically beautiful than good art, because it documents human failure."
Previous Page12Next Page