Rainbow Slurry

By lupus tenebrae

 



Knives draw water
into orchestras of cisterns
and sound Sundays by the bottle.

The mirror shards
recant their alto and baritone tales,
how they grew rusty between encores,
how they’re starving…

Beside the tiger’s den
it all becomes a slurry,
unrecognizable,

found miracles are welcome,
with open arms, and expectant eyes,
no avail, as per usual.

Not a dash of rainbow,
nor sprig of lace,
can find the words from which to speak.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2012 lupus tenebrae
Published on Friday, July 6, 2012.     Filed under: "Reflective" and "Poetry"

Author's Note:

Something from the archives, written from wandering in the rain.
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Comments on "Rainbow Slurry"

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  • Mothkisses On Saturday, July 14, 2012, Mothkisses (77)By person wrote:

    hell yeah, you sir are an artist!

  • Devilish On Monday, July 9, 2012, Devilish (3760)By person wrote:

    I was thrown off by the title then I read and it mended perfectly.. I am never disappointed and always intrigued.. Scholar

  • dwells On Friday, July 6, 2012, dwells (5649)By person wrote:

    Sometimes a poem speaks louder than the words, thanks Wolfie.

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