The kind of bro
ken clock
That's wrong twice
twice every day
Those repeated mistakes
Da-sh-ing my credibility to
Reflective shards
Showering me with slicing
Repentance
Morphing fra gm ent ed visions
Splashed across the
Jagged shapes
Emptiness
Lack of color and sound
Sensory deprivation
Driving me mad
Forcing me to search
For escapist fantasies
The only door out
Installed in the bed of an
Oyster-stocked lake
Locked
Holding back an unconscionable weight
Breath beaten from
Smoke-filled lungs
Closer I get
Louder the ticking grows
Clearing my time-dredged mind
Of secret combos
Impossible
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Laughter dances on the limelight
Flamingos chattering echoes through
The tumbler case of babylon
I am the key
Twisting, slithering into the lightless box
Pressure forcing me
Through the slot
F
A
L
L
E
N on a growing
mound of unlocked thoughts
pearls and tears trickling
DRIP
R
O
PPING
On my cresting head
Tossed down a curated lane
Trotting frantically after it
Till a gate slams shut
"The headless shall not
be granted entrance"
Yet, every knave that's exited
Sports bare shoulders crimson and cold
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Finally, I unlock the code
On the stroke of inco-rec-tic-ably
The court is erroneously opened to me
No one can see my lips turned up with glee
eyes squeezed in elation
nose wrinkled at the notion my
cursed luck has become the key to
lively exposition
unlike the acephalic parade
I've just missed
My cranium leaps and locks into place
dragging my body
to tea as we're late
K.B. Silver
Oh boy this one took me a minute. I wonderlanded out a little, but I do that anyway. I was just compiling a chapbook of wonderland related poems a few days ago, so by the end of the month I will be deciding what not to put in, rather than searching for things that might fit.
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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More stories from K.B. Silver and writers in Poets and other communities.
CH 20~ Party Down
Argento’s ninth (eighteenth in earth years) Birthday came and went Thursday, the thirteenth, and he’d already received his father’s gift, if you could call it that. You had to commit a fairly serious infraction to be cut off; the Arch-Baron was keeping up appearances and maintaining his own reputation as much as any sense of love or attachment to Argento with his “gift.”
By K.B. Silver Exclusive • 6 days ago
New Normal
There is always a moment — small, quiet, almost forgettable — when the spark stops being a warning and becomes a state. It never looks like a turning point from the outside. It’s not a dramatic shift. It’s not a cinematic beat. It’s a subtle internal click, a recalibration so slight that only someone who has lived this cycle as many times as I have would recognize it.
By Elisa Wontorcik3 days ago in Poets
Comments (4)
Love the word illustration here really added to the overall tone. Very creative and wonderfully written.
Such a creative and interesting journey!
Aghhh Capitilization! I am a capital criminal. Sorry guys.
Wonderful