Borer-Worms

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.


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