QUA QUA QUA
(A CLOCKWORK STUPID)
by William M. Peaster
upon beauty’s throat
it’s all Unsaid
like wild roses
whose thorns rise and penetrate
the soft world wide open
a mist of blood levitating
between the dream & real & dream
some dollop of mortality
curdling within a hole
within the storm
where the sun breaks through
like a spotlight
not a star.
[You can find "Qua Qua Qua" and 150 similar poems in my recently published volume of poems, Phantastikon].
very nice
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this is nice, thank you for sharing! :-)
up-voted
RightWithin
Thanks so much!
A very unique poem, The imagery used is awesome!
Thanks kindly my friend! Looking forward to keeping up with your writing in the coming weeks! Loved everything I've seen so far.