Poem By Rod Mendieta

I tip the crystal goblet of my soul
And pour out the water of mercy
But it cuts like exploding shrapnel
The parched face of the thirsty.

I take off my warm overcoat
Wrap it ‘round the bones of Humanity
But the skeleton whips out a dagger
And stabs me with insanity.

I bring a slice of unleavened bread
Close to a toothless mouth agape
But there spring rows of sharp teeth
That bite me, as were I a sweet grape.

I make out menacing clouds above,
Pale magicians riding gathering-storms,
Their flight unfolding a black shroud,
Their laughter shooting borer-worms.

Comments about Borer-Worms

WHIP UP OR whip out? either way, not very nice. naughty, naughty! very fanciful. a dream? it seems to go from 1 - something YOU do causing harm..TO 2 - things you offer backfiring on you, .. TO 3 - a magical force being playful with worms. bri ' (: p.s. those sharp teeth don't seem grapeful.
damn evil things! ! now ya got me feeling sorry for grapes. some people just don't know HOW to be grateful! : ( : ( bri [ ;) ]
A surreal poem of exhilarating images. Lines three and four are quite outstanding, Rod and the whole first rate. It's going into my favourites' list.

Rating Card

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Other poems of MENDIETA

The Land Of Plenty

The old sturgeon held his fishing pole
Sitting well away from the busy shoal
Right on the pond's mossy bed.
He swung it once, swung with might,


Yours is wondrous Poetry
Laden with the ripe fruits of emotion,
The lustrous layers of your longing.
One should only very carefully tread

Airy Dogma

A word of caution, my friend
For it pains me so to see you
Raising castles with flimsy sticks
And fanning the flames of hope

The Island Of Your Smile

Oh, indeed it'd easier to abdicate
And walk out into exile in a cove of silence
Than to raise a bridge of words
And steal over the ocean of your indifference.

Her Kisses Drink Me Up Slowly

Her kisses drink me up slowly
Her mouth sipping keenly
Then playfully holding back,
Her moist lips thirsting,

Gratitude To A Black Bird

Black bird perched on the eave
Croaking a dissonant note amidst
So many Nightingales
Are you aware of my gaze?