Went to a writer's club in Toronto called the Parkdale Writers. Seems interesting enough, hell, they've got free food and even give you two subway tokens for good measure. Eventually they're going to publish a magazine (street cred phase 1). I wrote two poems, one unfinished untitled piece and an abstract writing which envelops many ideas in loosely and intricately worded structure.
Cauterized Patient, Solid by the Window
A drifting carcass wheels down the hallway
and stops by my bed.
A blood-stained curtain winds open, slowly
softening a solemn blow.
Mixed martial law sits fat,
Gust blows forth prepare the crew.
demon guts drained in a vat.
scum of world sinew.(Phew)
A pasty liquid mold
stains my mellow soul.
Force of lingering childhood,
with resonance of thought cajole.
Damned is the fixture, which
holds the light so high and true.
Dissonance in humid summer. Dense.
Stuck behind the senses. Tense.
untitled piece, unfinished but may edit later
The door dispenses souls
from single, separate, groundhog holes.
Bitter taste in discontent, we
grow around a warming vent.
Secluded sources fill the room,
beckoning all, but silent tomb.
Rushing to trade places, fill spaces.
All, not to let the silence graze us.
Perceived enigma, how we fall,
tainted appearance, a subtle crawl.
Expression seeps softly in a dim wish,
hope they don't notice our diminish.
The door drives these demons home.
Reminding them, that there are places to atone
for deadly sins in discontent
and as the summers went.
Too bad I still have more old poetry to upload. It could be months until I start posting my most recent works ;-)
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