THE BARD NOT ON HEMLOCK (PAROXYSM)

Conceived 11/11/2017 (7:00 PM)

12/11/2017 3:36 PM

The bard was high
The bard was not on hemlock
The bard did sigh
No words came to make a talk
As time flies by
And the threads entangle all
Tricks come nigh
The bards sing about the hoax
Hoax came alive
Alas! how long may the song last
The strings collide
Like never before they send
Forth to mesmerize
But my kin; riffs and friends
Tension did arise
Senses that once worked well
Now did only lie
The bard seemed on hemlock
None can justify

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THE FIRST HALF OF HER LIFE

12:06 AM

31/10/2017

The writer in her late thirties
I saw her write day and night
Had a gawky style of writing
And her words fought a fight

I saw at times she would kill
And give birth to strangers
I saw her kiss the tabletops
Make love to pen and paper

She poured the ink and bled
Her fingers did only dodder
My love, my love, she’d cry
Always wanted to hold her

And ideas seemed to run out
Her life is rushing off its pace
To feed herself now she must
Again sell yet another page

The writer in her late thirties
Had to make another stage
Give birth to more strangers
And kill a few others in rage