Z …

Z … read (red?) by Shell

Your alphabet concludes with z while
mine is just beginning, taking off
into symbolic realm where there are
no fences, safety nets or comfort
cloned to tame and shame emotion’s rite.

No, I will not even try to breathe your
language grinding jealous fear and
ownership which may, at any time, be
sold or skinned from bone in battle.

Instead, i’ll fly beyond poor limits, you
will fail to find my open sky where
z is just a bat-snack in a quantum mist.

Bruises fade and when you pull that bitter
splinter from pale heart you’ll find no
scars to mourn, no trail of tears to show
i’d ever been there to disturb your night.

3 thoughts on “Z …

  1. Chico Mahalo says:

    no dangling gerunds, no mangled prepositions, no exiled nouns and verbs going on here…

    just crisp, frolicsome wordsmithing…


    yes yes … frolicsome, thanks for seeing that, not everyone does – i have a quirky sense of humour!
    i soooo loved your feedback, Chico!


  2. beeskiffle says:

    Yes, my uncle is right.
    You have substance and balls and fresh air in your skull. A fierce consonant rush.


    you’re Paul’s niece? ohhh welcome! this is a fierce poem steered by spirit/gut refusal (or sheer inability in that dept) to be quelled by “muggles” … *wry grin .. i’m honoured by what you said .. really so … thank you!


  3. Paul says:

    “z is just a bat-snack in quantum mist” that is brilliany. Your poetry sounds like music all the time. Vampire suggestions through this one, brilliant original idea with the alphabet metaphor and wonderful to read out loud as always. You are a fantastic poet, Shell. Intelligence, originality, passion and an instinctive intimacy with the language.


    i’m so glad and relieved you enjoyed this … delighted that you saw the vampire thingummy too *heh …. ’twas an angry moment when i realised that a) i was a vampire magnet b) they weren’t sexy at all, just puny limpets .. ha! so this was quite an inner turning point for me … a swipe of my (at the time) darkwing and they were gone, devoured (and spat out) by Real passion (though i needed many antacids later) while i headed on for the sky … *grin … the cruelty of this disturbs me sometimes though perhaps it shouldn’t …


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