Can’t look.
Don’t recognise that barren crown.
Lipstick on a pig.
Line four of this unbosoming and brimming with blubber.
Can’t talk about this.
Category / Poetry
Disordered thoughts.
AS SURE AS THE SUN SHALL RISE
An ocean of panic swells in my chest
As senses shudder into another day.
No calm before my storm;
Only perpetual tempest.
I dread these tides of confusion;
Predictable in their power,
But incalculable of depth
And — no oil to pour.
© Mel Lampro
WHAT DOES YOUR LOVE FEEL LIKE?
What does your love feel like?
Is it soft and fluid
Or does it cloy on the teeth
Like a bloodied, boxer’s mouth?
Does it make the heart sick
With sweet, sweet sugarings
That spin and drip in sticky clouds
Or as dry as a vacillating savanna
Flecked with dead oases
And forgotten bone?
Is it warm and peaceful
Or does it retch
Like the last breath of a suicide?
© Mel Lampro
STRANGE THING
I’m a musician; I’m a writer
I’ve been a lover and I’ve been a fighter
I’m a mother; I’m a cipher
I’m a wannabe cancer survivor
I’m as mad as the wind at night
My name means dark; my name means light
None of these things will ever define me
Yet they have shaped and re-aligned me
I’m a story-teller; I’m a changeling
I am me and that’s the strange thing
© Mel Lampro
TICK
Everyone is dead
While my core tick, tick, tick
Ticks like a fat baby
Floating for breath.
Shades of owls and razors
Slice and screech in my sleep
Pressing me to cut
Loose from
You
Him
Her
Them
This
Everyone.
Tick, tick, tick.
© Mel Lampro
CONCAVE
I’m an artist, a dreamer, a drifter, a slave
To the pressures that squeeze me until I’m concave
Like a mirror that flexes away from the light and
Only observes what is written at night.
I speak the language of whomever is nearest
My chameleon tongue chides the hearts that are dearest and
Closest to me yet, I cannot feel love.
It’s the stranger who weeps by my grave, my dove
It’s the stranger who weeps by my grave.
© Mel Lampro
SOUL-TIED
Wisps of day
Filter out the darkness
Chilling the tear-burns
To his empty face
Dry-lipped
And oasis-eyed
Crushed foetal
By the e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-n-e-s-s
Soul-tied
© Mel Lampro
THE MOON
i saw the moon
tonight
a crescent sliver
silver
split
hanging
from the rent cloth
of the sky
Previously Published:
Wherever You Roam: Volume 2 (Slim Volume)
Edited by: Kate Garrett
Available from Amazon
© Mel Lampro
SCORPION
bane-ripe
this
glistening
blistering
pomegranate
swelling heavy
on it’s burdened stalk
pregnant
eclipsed in span-shadow
an arachnid
distracted
by the majesty of flight
ambles on again
perfectly
out of proportion
© Mel Lampro / Previously published: Route 57, University of Sheffield Online Arts Magazine [2006].
ASSASSIN
a
tiny
pink
quiver
of
life
clings
onto it’s sanctuary
as the sleeper
seals it’s destiny
with
every
heavy
breath
nosferatu
drains
it’s essence
it’s existence
denying any claim
on identity
on equity
assassin
© Mel Lampro / Previously published: Route 57, University of Sheffield Online Arts Magazine [2006].
D'emo 