Blah

letters-718846_960_720

I stared love squarely in the face and in the eyes – its jaws hung,
dripping blood
and token flesh
as saliva
drizzled,
dropping
hints
and warnings,
then bait
that turned
ruby reds
and red reds
redder,
and made
ruddy
pretty
reds
prettier,
and bland reds
into
exquisite
blooming red
but still
red
until
pink
fuchsias
turned
crimson
rose red
and
bland
poetry
started
sprawling
into
beautiful
pools
that grew
and grew
becoming
big
then bigger,
and larger
than
life
until the
paper bled –
absorption
and
tolerance
was zero ply –
no shock
there.
The dance had begun.
I thought love was dead. Love thought it wasn’t.

 

Author: Anita Lubesh

I write poetry/prose/stories/short stories/verses for children/sketch/and have 6 chapters of a novel sitting there like that half eaten trifle in the fridge or bottle of Jack Daniels because something makes you afraid to eat it or drink... right now.. I am a proud Geordie from England's northern hemisphere and the beautiful city of Newcastle upon Tyne. I live with my lovely husband who came all the way from sunny California just for me, and my favourite animal, Bobble, our dog. I am a member of Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth and wish we could all do more, especially today, when such a lot is wrong.

15 thoughts on “Blah”

    1. The end bit is from PG Wodehouse. A hunter goes on safari and kills a lion, then the lion get up and attacks him. When asked about the incident the idiot hunter says, I thought the lion was dead.” The lion thought it wasn’t. I can always hear me dad laugh when I think of it. had to use it somehow. Thanks, Tammy.

      Liked by 3 people

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