birds ate my love goddess

it is a poem....with words...and feathers

wrote a song on driftwood

with salt-wind and laughter,

 

fed on red corpses

of lies on the beach,

 

took a shot of tequila

with a fruit bat named Chachi

 

and died for an hour

in the sticky white sands

 

tar balls whisper

what seagulls sing

what hermit crabs search for

 

your name

 

 

set fire to the stars

          with incandescent passion

 

ripped through old letters

to find the cold sun

 

          smoked a dime bag of vision

                   in the Volvo with Ronnie

 

and lived for ten minutes

while the cops searched the car

 

          blue lights flash

          what the cold sun shines

what the cops never find

 

your name

Author's Note

sreweiveR
rof etoN

yrteoP cixelsyD ecnaD sretteL era diputs em llik selkcip

Reviews

[Aven]

this is absolutely incredible, I hope more people find your writing!

"and died for an hour
in the sticky white sands"

you, my friend, are a poet. I will tell you one thing though, forget about the grey... it distracts you from the true essence of this magnificent piece! well written!

[Dizzy]

Well this an interesting one. I don't think I've read one quite like it. I do like the style of it though. I hope to read more like it.

[J.M]

Wow - its dramatic and full-on but I think its really good. I especially like the last verse. It has its own kind of original beauty.

[Looouise]

I'm not too sure what to write after reading this poem...but I do quite like it. It just has an air to it. :] It's a nice write. :]