- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Octopusemonium
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Click hereAll eight of my arms
Now, stretched.
Clutching to hold onto things
That pull in multiple directions.
Unable to reel in, even one morsel
And feed myself the customary rewards.
Each thing, fighting the other for priority
All of them dangling out of reach, leaving me hungry.
Have I become prey?
Or, a schizophrenic, well intentioned predator?
I am unsure if mother, nurse or tender heart will take control.
Shall I just hang on and let the better man win?
Do not be concerned if you see my ink.
It is more for me, than you.
I’d rather not see the reflection of my struggles.
I will float.
Let Octopusemonium happen, in the dark.
It will tire.
After all…
My tentacles are very strong!
- COMMENTS
unpredictablebijouover 15 years agoThere are some strong ideas and good images in here. There were a couple of places where I thought the commas were unnecessary and distracting, but that's minor. Nice work.
