Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Poetry 005


Tonight,
The most magnificent of muses
Entered the subway of my life's trepidaton,
A series of tongue twisted dwarves
That guide umbilical beliefs
Into the gutters of human disparity.

And yet I'm left
Requesting rights
That have yet to arise
Upon the tastebuds of tangled tyrants,
Twisted beyond illusion,
In an attempt to gentrify
A never-ending phoenix,
Shooting hope in between the toes
Of bed-ridden angels,
Whose wings no longer perspire or aspire
To the ancestral heights
That came before them,

Sharpening talons, instead, hourly
To ensure some form of engraved bedrock.

Copyright 2007 Jordy Yager

1 comment:

Victoria said...

i enjoy your talent with language specifically the t's on tues.