poetry for a new epoch

Ribcage Symphonies

Passion has no taste
It just burns your tongue
While fingers compose symphonies
On nameless ribcages

Black widows don’t label their pets
Other than with dull numbers
Making disappointing engagements
Worthwhile episodes of a life wasted

On selfish charity, superiority
Damage of clarity of human heart
Dwelling frightened, cracked and murky
In its fragile shell

Soul is a carton box
That implodes in heavy rain
While rays of sun in a marmalade jar
Mean a miracle, if piled up carefully

A man says he met God in the subway
What most don’t want to listen to
See, mirror is the one true friend
As it always smiles back

A horse’s eye mutely reflects old days’ glory
Unnoticed by those who just recklessly ride
Into sunset full of screaming colours
At dusk that for a change might not be followed by dawn


Author: Gabriela
Creative Commons Licence


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: