half empty bottle of sin

broken heart, drowned liver, twisted mind...and WINDMILLS! WOOOoooooHooooOO!

carved you flowers of frogs and glass,

hung displays of infant worlds awakening,

wove a thought that you never wear.

 

shrubs should have been silver-fronded, but they were not.

words were sabotaged by clock puppets flashing solitude from your briefcase;

wooden solitude with a black veining smile.

 

teeth diminishing, teeth gone, teeth again.

 

tied spidery dream catchers from metaphysical ropes

to forget.

 

you left nothing but your stains.

 

drank mournful remembrances

of green life drying up

as psychotic windmills wobbled old hymns.

 

liquid jewels seeped from fractured and starred blue eyes,

and golden gloom waved a sure farewell.

 

I have run out of miracles.

Author's Note

This on was published in Black-Listed Magazine awhile back...it is a cool little ezine that everyone with a darker outlook should check out.

Reviews

[.]

. wow ... me too ... i've run out of miracles like faces run out of smiles ... this is absolutely captivating poetry ...

[Crowley]

Maybe just chocolates would have been enough...lol. Love your twisted little mind and your edgy words my friend. I like voices like yours...makes me anxious, we should all be a little anxious. Nice work.

[Amy Bumpas]

I love the ending...and don't we all feel like we have ran out of
miracles, especially in times like these. To me this poem is saying
we fight for our lives, living, and are tempted, and wanting to
give up.

[J.M]

Its very descriptive, original, sombre, intriguing.... The imagery was dramatic and almost dream-like. Basically I think the poem was great all round.

[jenniewren (J.W. Bouwma..]

this is beautiful.. filled with a deep melancholy.. i couldnt say which stanza affected me more.. they are all so incredibly written