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E m o g e n e

dell chorus
the silent boiler
and the blind mirror
sipping echos with the faulted tap

dark circe night
I smash the stars out one
by one
beneath the moth dancer light

A freight howls
rattling the bridge domain
the dark coffee waters

beneath the space
we buried
the river runs

wide and staring
voracious with power
like buttons torn
ventured to the seam

couplets and meaning

a storm of television flicker
delicate tremor
caress the flesh
the stray strands
like love beats from broken drums

tear rivened

Editing stage: 


with the amount of images that feed your work though I might not get it all the way it's intended, but who cares, it is probably only me.


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Follow me

"but who cares.."

indeed Rula....poetry is a gasp...a sigh..a silent wow sometimes..
empathic and a tremor like a brush on a drumhead
a Jazz sizzle and a raindrop ripple...

Thank You!

author comment

You are a man
with multifarious imagination

praise and lust
all your poetry's are an unique thrust
as for more we


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