The Lecturer Like the mother of a friend, she smiledThe Lecturer by ~twobefore-sunrise
And welcomed our inattentive faces
To the world she created daily.
Mumbling and fumbling with age she yet had,
She dimmed the lights just so
And with a great sweeping motion,
She opened her little mouth with fury
As knowledge poured out into a sea before us
Swallowing our pens and paper
And subjugating our hands to the tremors of the scribe.
Sonnet of Revision Time As I sit here, facing tomes and tomesSonnet of Revision Time by ~twobefore-sunrise
Of dead trees filled to the brim with dead men,
Sunlight smiling at my back for hours,
And eyes failing at the faint neon glow,
I cannot help my thoughts from wandering.
‘What if’ after ‘What if’ parade their songs
And I am anxiousness, but not in words;
Surrounded as I am, how could I be?
My feelings are just motions now.
Heart beats are in stasis, and all is dull
As though the many bindings suck the light
For late night reads of later dates.
I wish to make a noise but none will come –
These books will swallow me whole in silence.
Laocoon Eat your words, eat your words,Laocoon by ~twobefore-sunrise
And eat your feet, and eat your words,
And eat your hands, and elbows too
And eat the eyes that tether you
To heaven’s ever turning back
While we shall take what we do lack
Those words? Yes words! We eat your words
Which damn you to other worlds
And into bites for tongues unfurled
Where our mouths were so salty through
But now our mouths are full of you.
Your sons as well, are forfeit now,
Into our banishing little bowls
And to your words? No bids farewell
Come up once more, a screaming knell.
And then you eat your words as well
we’ll eat your neck and then your words
an
ordinary relativity If I am on a trainordinary relativity by ~twobefore-sunrise
Moving swiftly in the rain
At a speed of v, let’s say
While you stand out in the hay
And some lightning haps to strike
Through the purpled dulcet night
If we happen to take sight,
Will we see the same great light?
Shall we mourn the darkness diff’rent
Our eyes drinking in the pigment
Of the sky at times infrequent
For our planes aren’t co-existent?
Weaved in time like window shades
Born to ripple in the waves
Always looking through the glaze
At such different sunny days
But if this is so, I guess,
You are y and I am x,
And we both see light at all
Should we not be a bit equal?
Girl on a train 245 .Girl on a train 245 by ~LazyLinePainterJohn
There should be a poem for every girl
with black hair and black eyes
who's sat across the aisle on a crowded train
and written pointless beautiful things
in the notebook in her lap.
I might write my name and number on a bit of paper
Drop it on your page a
Astonished 
Sta.sh
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Shooting Star | Stolen Light
#Word-Smiths dedicated to fine literature
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Blottingpaper -- my blog | Mimesis -- an international journal of poetry, artwork and opinion
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Blottingpaper -- my blog | Mimesis -- an international journal of poetry, artwork and opinion