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Conversations With The Ghost
by Ted JackinsThrow the dirt
on the celibate
daisies,
cover the face
of beauty
with anger.
In the shadows
of bedsheets,
we slice the
throats
of delicate angels.
In the morning
I will forget
my way,
lose myself again
in the mirror. 08/13/2009
Author's Note: There's a certain beauty in destruction.
Posted on 08/13/2009
Copyright © 2025 Ted Jackins
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/13/09 at 05:48 PM I can sure relate to where this comes from, but one has to keep looking for the good girls that do, and leave the knives to nightmares. Excellent conveyance though! |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 01/09/12 at 06:01 PM some powerful imagery here. that last line about losing oneself in the mirror sets this poem off, rather splendidly, both existentially and emotionally. |
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