Archive for the ‘ Poetry ’ Category

Parlor House

Pig throats and cheddar tails, breakfasts on tile,
Clog the sentient, aim in bile.
Filing late,
Delusions masturbate;
Formalities to grief to drip-waxed plate.

Wood to metal to plastic to stone,
From dust to ashes to dust is blown.
Formed in grout, connect the lines,
Forking lard, spooning blind.

bread toupees, coffins in ton;
Seasons in rounds to Three in One.

C. L. H o d g e ©2011

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Only Solace

The time.
It melted on me
Once.
As a child in slender
Precaution.
Delusionary remarks
I created
Myself.
I was Eden.
My tongue:
Serpent.

Volatile embers sprang forth
From the advantages
I consumed.

Like rain.

Like rust.

Illusions inside glass marbles
Precipitated my meanings.
The sprinkling denied
My decaying rumors.

No longer literate.
Just irate
Reasons to become
Divinity.

Solace is
When the sun
Penetrates
Iron.

It boils when
Awake.

C. L. H o d g e © 2011