White Bones
Death comes as the end
It's so as they say
In the muddy clay
Of yesterday
Forgotten socks
And broken locks
Tattered mingling thorns
Broke the nightingale
Ruby red cherry strawberry smoothie
Splashed
On a porcelain porch
Near the swinging seat
With not
A hint of grass beneath
Scorched ashes lie about
Forsworn liberty
Prickling the thin timbers
Munching on the sound of happiness
False cheeriness
Claps hands
And takes a glass
Raised high
To the fallen
Bemused
Powdered fingers
Linger
Over the mass sea
Of insanity
Sane or not
Is up to debate
Within
Prolific and tame waste
Like a dame in the making
Crying children
Littered a quarry
Full of worry
For damnable indemnity
Claims the rights
Over the light of dawn
Honesty
Creeps about in shame
Devotees dead
As bickering bystanders binge
While lockets lick language
Into the abyss
Morose counts the time
Bean by bean
In a haystack of broken dreams
Off a fishy stream
Flowing off into nothing
Back into something in
The fragrance of narrow white beads
Enlarged and ripened by heat
Huddled together
Executioner-ready
Like the eyes of a puppet, poppet, patty puppy
Canned food
Calamity seeks no refuge
Roaming free
In a land of refuse
Like
A wanderer with no regrets
Putting light to the test
Like
A cliché stacked up high
Awaiting collapse
High time is twilight
That brings the bile
Not, mind
Of the good kind
Signing binds hinds
Crucifix mine
Rocks to throw
And time to buy
The heavenly flowers of Eden
Turn to snakes
Writhing divine in hellfire
Buried
inside a dime
performing a mime
inside a rhyme
committing time
to a chain of rosy petals
Within an oldish jar of thyme
For the bones in the urn