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The recovery room (Free verse) by katinchina Bloody eyes pleading
Anemic hands reaching out
Paper thin bloodless bodies
Lifeless
Pungent smells of life giving spirits
Putrid smells of death defeated spirits
Old blood on sheets, old wounds on him
Tangerine hair, swollen tummies
The illusion of health and food full bellies
Desperate eyes hungry lips thirsty souls
Starving for replenishment
Still clinging to survival, clamoring for salvation
The smell of death I met miles outside
Inside, the look of death I couldnât abide
Up the ladder:
Unsung california dreamin.
Down the ladder:
Epitaph of Innocence
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 5.0
Posted: July 29, 2004 8:21 AM PDT; Last modified: July 29, 2004 8:21 AM PDTWeighted score: 5.0 Overall Rank: 7701 Comments:
Great title, rough-sketch poetics. The 12th & 13th lines are tops without the 'Still'up front.
"C.... to s...., c... for s...". Though the title csught my eye, it does not jive with the poem. Where's the recovery? Looks like death to me. 131 view(s)
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Fat eyes pleading
Plump hands reaching out
Obese gravy stuffed dumplings
Lifeless
Pugeot smells of life drinking spirits
Plummish smells of deaf defeated pots and pans
Old crapes on sheets, old flour on him
Nectarine hair, bloating rumps
"The illusion of health and food full bellies"?
A cornucopia of...Corn...
Starving for pop
Still clinging to aluminum, clamoring for salt
"The smell of death I met miles outside"?
Inside, the Kitchen gleamed with new dishes to break my momma tongue against like a wounded
seal on the dingy of infidelity, and a filthy
floor.