Bare Brooding

by Alice   Nov 11, 2017


I admit defeat.
I admit this ragged shawl
that sequesters my squeezed eyes
from the lambent pulses
churning like a tempest in my knotted brain,
has left me blind
as a suckling puppy-dog-
without the will to see.
I admit that I have slipped
through each shallow breath
that is jostled out
with a clang of steel and splitting bells,
from the carry of the safe and stalwart stallion
to a land of swirling scares
and ambush-thoughts
like hungry ghosts.
I know,
I see
that as days swoon past
like idle cavities
My tingling desert tongue
yearns feebly for the taste of comfort,
each time my fated chime is rung.

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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Beautifully and skilfully crafted indeed, Alice. Your use of alliteration is sublime throughout this poem. For one so young (if you don't mind me saying) you display a marvellous variation of vocabulary.

    Take care and stay well,

    Ben