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World On Fire
by J. P. Daviestongue like sandpaper
eyes choked up with the grit
the sky new desert
the earth an open flame
morning clouds, no vapour
smoke it in, blow it out
no Du Maurier required
we are cancer, spread our word
disciples of a new prophet
praise the almighty self
raise me up on my own shoulders
and carry me around
tomorrow reeks of sulfur
drink the water we have left
we make a monument to oxygen
with every single breath
dead, before we lived
now simply existing
march the path of least resistance
sleep on beds of burning leaves
and expire
09/12/2007 Posted on 09/13/2007
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Tony Whitaker on 09/13/07 at 08:42 AM I can smell the brimstone pyres of our fatal existence! Very nice J.P.! |
| Posted by Laurie Blum on 09/13/07 at 04:17 PM I like the way you suck me right into the maelstrom. And I like it there! Very intense. |
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