tagNon-Erotic PoetryClods, Fogs, and Clouds

Clods, Fogs, and Clouds

byRazzRajen©

Colours coalesce, pillars of creation
humongous clouds        That ought to be cumulous clods
who is not wicked, goes to the other room
who is Mine stays
and barely survives
pain is in multifarious forms
some open , some slashed, some nefarious
take a number and file
Be here and be there

Sliced and
maybe diced
Shakes head, nay not diced
But yes marinated udders are a real-time treat
and when the brain pulsates,
those colours coalesce again
mixing and overflowing.

I need that trail ,
I need that way,
I need that mewl to wash over Me
The sound of whimpers
soft sickle sighs
and then
the light that shines ,
where once My strokes lighted
a Map or directions through
the fog of My desires
nirvana or salvation
a joining and a melding

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