At my table you will find bits and pieces; colorful as a bag of skittles
For my favorite are the dull and mundane, dripping in rainbow
From citrine to amethyst and eggs of green opal
To the black of ash of the last cigarette to the
Broken pillars of time; white ash lacks the perfume of incense
For my favorite is the mess and somber, dripping in frankincense.
At my table, you will find mini replicas; vibrant as a string of lights
For my favorite is the gone and forgotten, dipped in glass
From east to west and a bowl of memories
To the weight of brass in a long list of lovers to the
Cracked anatomy of mishap; an idol lacks the essence of god
For my favorite is wisdom and nostalgia, dripping in sarcasm
About the Creator
Pōlani Monderen
Modern-day nomad attempting to share experiences through writing in a natural, unhindered way; leaving only footprints of ink wherever I wander.
Author and illustrator of "The Elements: A Poetry Journal" by Wick House Publishing.
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Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Frankly4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
The repetition of "for my favourite" gave this a nice beat. Loved your poem!