Carrion of Dead Poets

The Turning Point

David Bülow

Used with Permission

 

Pens litter the floor like carrion of dead poets

who still feed passion to hungry minds.

I wasted ink trying to build a fire.

Words teased with sparks, but they cooled into

drinking sarcasm with Bukowski’s ghost

and making paper planes out of crumpled words

I mined from a thesaurus.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

To see more of David Bulow's work visit @bulow_ink on Instagram or view more art from this talented artist on his website Bulow Ink.

Real Toads ~ Art Flash!/55

Too Close to the Edge

The midnight lake puts its lips

to my eyes and drinks every

starlight wish swimming in hazel.

Not satisfied with the brew of visions

it sends watery death into my lungs

to flood my last breath of July.

Thrashing in waves of lost I am tossed

the life preserver of 1:00 am and a cat

purring rescue across my chest.

Shaken I reach for pen and paper

beside my bed and pray my muse

has escaped the drowning pool of empty.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Real Toads ~ The Tuesday Platform