feel the pulsating
raw, living thing
a poem is
start to fade away
under the frantic stabbing
of my rage
it shanks like the caged
with no reason
or end game
as soon as the
feeling dissipates
the beating fades
trailing blood
a messy reminder
of the resistance
that enraged
enough to pour it out
on paper and screen
sprinting off
circular logic
jogging around
to the start
I try to erase the evidence
this wasn't
a masterpiece of heartache
from the start
K.B. Silver
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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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
Comments (2)
The conflicts of the inner self and inner struggle do not need grand words to be expressed. I observe authenticity in your work, and negative self-criticism is unnecessary when there is expressive spontaneity.
Amazing poem! Great work!