Grey shadow days
Impossible opaque mid-afternoons
Dense is the slaughterhouse dreams
That melt into liquid nights of emptiness
Fill the void/ flood horizontal rivers
The shallow valleys are dry
With nebulous filth growing in the heart
Of forgotten children/speak to deaf ears
Plead for mercy in an unmerciful world
Diminutive is the pinwheel eyes
Sleeping inside calcified souls
Emotionless/disconnected
Cut from the seed of life
Silver spoons
The wreckage at the bottom
Of ancient teacups
Bleed fast/ bleed slow
Upon the red rose pedals
Subdued in the garden of Mesopotamia
No one will ever know
The rubicund flesh
Torn out from soft tissue tongues
Inside deep throats
Every thought every image
Fallen to charlatan hearts
Of cataclysm birth
Life has eclipsed
Into the obscure..
- Ken Riccio original poems ©
