Tags:
  • Other

    SOS

    SOS

    I baby eye this rhythm pad
    Pondering pensive anticipation blanks
    To two-step like neo militia troops staying in rank
    Off –course, sometimes it goes out of range with bleak black

    In this blind spot without a navigation card
    Plutonic reactions, emit red beacons for thermo-mapping
    I’m still learning, so my urn of ashes is still standard
    Sitting on the death-wish, tapping my pen to cast of its tricks

    The culprit’s repose cuts sharp
    Concise like an angel playing a golden harp
    ‘’A sleepy-heads pillow is their fortress
    The busy bee’s honeycomb is not for marauders
    A rectum that has seen more benches than bus stop
    Should not be flushed when it is unable to get a proper pot

    By: Phantom Gargoyle

    Poem Comments

    (0)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    Phatom’s Poems (23)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    First Sight 1
    Once upon a red moon 1
    Sporting the oak 0
    Procrastinati
    on
    0
    Watch grass plume 0
    Ghost bust 1
    Cupid's sickness 0
    First mark 0
    I SEE KNOW 0
    FLUSH IT 3
    Koch 0
    Lottery gaze 1
    Imitative Boast 2
    What, what 1
    One Word 4
    Pun Wars 2 0
    Pun Wars 2
    Complex Crashing 3
    SOS 0
    Light the kettle 2
    Blank state 1
    Flushed 2
    1st light 1