Posted: September 26, 2014 in Dark Poetry


The pull your essence exerts
Is truly problematic
Like wolves lulled on a Full Moon
Roots of the true lunatic
The source of my insomnia
Is surgically found out
Like a nine inch harpoon
Finds an eleventy stone trout

Will you “salva mea”?
Would you then leave me sane?
Will this tunnel vision
Of heavenly views wane?
This dance of adulation
Gets far too Danse Macabre
Even more Dance of Death
Than rocket-fuel and fire

I do want to be excised
Or wait… I do not know
Maybe I love this quagmire
I’ve also come to loathe
But wait, I see the Rubicon
Saving has to be now
On what is still worth saving
Lest “is” becomes “once was”.


  1. Apache says:

    Vivid with more than a touch of mystery. How such a cocktail is even possible is beyond imagining.


  2. Aventuяine says:

    Delightful read, the imagery is vivid and mysterious. Nice one.


  3. ovi3 says:

    Hehe I am delighted..


  4. Erado says:

    Nice work ovie


  5. otabsky says:

    Structurally refreshing. Taut contrasts and self-contradictions driven by ‘surgical’ imagery.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s