Friday, 18 March 2016

Void of Concern

Woman with a Flower” by Pablo Picasso (1932)

The greasing of eyes sore in envy
Are worn by caring too much
For little reason but curiosity is the self-destruction of self-esteem
Disbelief is peculiar
How it launches despair
Oh a despair
Torn to shreds
Soak in bed, a caricature of a man
In tears of jealousy
How bemusing to cry on pleasure
In pleasure there is no time

For care about crying
Somehow, the sinner sleeps better at night
Might you come, crawl into the sheets of the sinner
And sin with them
For yourself
Imagination is a form of freedom, from which there are boundless routes to riddle with
Drive slowly, around the outskirts of the curb  
A daisy dies on the fringe
A harmonica slaughters a nightmare
Nirvana speaks on behalf of the peace of the
Closed eyes

Overdue for a holiday
A farewell is incomplete unless enforced with an embrace
Not all goers are huggers
But the ones who need saving are still looking for theirs
Behind the garbage dump two felines are making love like a baby crying in its crib
Outrageous hormones
What animals
What hideous crime
The sky is on the verge of collapsing, in regards to the disgrace
It reeks