"With such a short fuse, comes the greater amount of risks to muck up your life. Is there a way to get out of it, but still continue building up my social reputation?" -John Ashleigh - 25 October 2005

Cut short.

Porcupine-stabs a toxin that deprives a thought,
A prick of amber loves to clog my veins.
Spurting arteries trying to field out-of-bounds,
A fuse timed with a constant melody; bang.
Green, orange to red
Clocking the key and raising the rush-hour
Inhaling resin of some links that...Reputation builds.
The odd-colour, fizzing at the
Dull, deep feelings; italic at its bravest.
Hibernated pupils sustained from all evidence
CCTV an overdose of unreliable source.
Waiting until dusk do dawn,
Waiting until light does frail.
Feeble in the hands of a lord; inspiring to the prison
A room framing my name on the lock.

Peeling coats of likeliness, baring the inner-wall,
An open mouth that models each tooth.
Temples frustrate, pulsate, creating the connection,
A bridge to walk over troubled masses of mud.

A sip of blood can make an innocent hand un-clean.

Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 924 times
Written on 2005-10-25 at 23:55

Tags Deep  Dark  Truth 

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Zoya Zaidi
((: Oops! :))

Zoya Zaidi
Such a complex collage of feeling,
one feeling rushing into another,
One upon the other they gather,
Till they are heaped up togather,
To paint this strong picture of personal bad weather!
(Where is Haiku Dreams?)
Keep the torch burning!!!!