16 April 2014

Handful Of Nothing

open_hand

it’s the stony cold silence

the morning after

a beating

that fragile feeling

softly tremble

the queerness in the gut

when the ebbing tide reveals

the broken jaw

of the sacrificial lamb

it’s a garden untended

and filled with nettles

it’s a mouthful of ashes

and a handful of nothing

.

4 comments:

  1. Peaceful Flower17 April 2014 at 07:45

    wow very surreal... excellent writing!!

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    Replies
    1. I tried to evoke the emotion - have you ever spend the night crying? - It's a bit like the feeling after that - the calm worn out feeling. Like a soft beaten sensation....

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    2. Peaceful Flower17 April 2014 at 09:51

      Yes, sadly I have and it does...

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    3. Thank you -Debra - emotion is all I have to paint with

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