An old man’s sweat That is how they smelled the days of our life A sludge that never got out a grey one That is how they tasted the last days of our life That is the flavor of a long weep a brainstorm The wicked hollers, the cries The unknown feelings of suffer They get close to me As a doppelgänger of sulfur They smile as I smile as I wonder in despair as I look into their eyes Petrified as I stack in their mess A façade of the old days the deadpan days, the blurry ones and they bite constantly and they smell of the fatal seed * The One will bring the Gore One of me half alive in the Hole May One bring primal Destruction *
Brutal.
But brilliant.
🖤🖤
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Thank you 🖤🖤🖤
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You’re so welcome 🖤
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Your last line, actually the last two words, summarize this poem so perfectly.
I could not stop reading these lines~
“That is the flavor of a long weep
a brainstorm”
I haven’t had a long weep in a long time. I am probably overdue, but I immediately was reminded of the taste of this experience. Salty, honest, cleansing, real, human…
I also love the use of the word “brainstorm” – creative play with words.
👏👏👏
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Thank you so much, Michele… Your supporting words are always precious to me.💖🙏🏻
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You are welcome. Always a pleasure reading your work. I only wish I could read your poems in both of your languages. 😀
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great poem
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Thank you so much!!! ❤
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Thanks for showing some love. Will definitely check out some of you work
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Thank you so much!✨🙏🏻 You seem to write from the heart too… Will read more of your work too 😊🖤
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The only way i know haha. Let the journey begin haha. Great work by the way. I can definitely feel the feels haha
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🙏🏻✨✨🖤
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