DevaneioA Poem by Jon R.T.techno surrealistStaunch, fat, biting gold. I'll lay my name through, tooth. To the ruler engraved crown for crown. So have a friend shill a coin to the ferryman when I pass away. When smelling poppies on latent days rubbed drably against misty-eyed strangers I hope. The visions of you, like breaking devaneio at dawn. Scrolling ordinals under the digital skylight together begging God’s credit by the waters. Our round faces pawning tailored passions now read merry of habits. Hung loose fit we became the plastic cultists. It’s all so f*****g passe. If only blood rushed echoes to rest in, ear. In life we vainly crashed fleets of words abroad of each other's connection. With an attempt to capture by proxy this aditus. Slouched about rooms now left empty of the inhabitants whose taste once raided inside them. Bare it well. You. Devaneio. You. Casting shade for former particle existence. Estranged of the salience there beneath the birch limbs uplifted whispers. Star gazing. A lame thief I let sleep in my eyes. Like laundered thought, my fingers playing here a note in banners painted fade. I wish I could paint it cracked in oil and gouache. Almost wispy slaps past till Ad Victoriam. © 2023 Jon R.T.Featured Review
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3 Reviews Added on April 18, 2023 Last Updated on November 13, 2023 AuthorJon R.T.ALAboutWhat is poetry to me? I can’t say. I’m not a poet. A dusty tome of words from learned fame resting to impart feelings. Pay a king's weighted penny and they will bound, them in pres.. more..Writing
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