A social site for poets in Sydney.
snakes into my life like the
long fangs of a religious discourse that slowly poisons whole continents, whole histories.
taps at my shoulder like the rain on someone else’s tin roof. There is nothing to fear but fear itself and I fear itself until fear is myself.
I’m an accidental cannibal, and yes, I taste like chicken. I taste like giving in and giving up, like the lump at the back of an exposed throat with a knife poised to fall.
Will it fall?
It is falling now.
Will it land?
It has already landed.
But none of that provides certainty.
I like the imagery here Faith...great poem. It's honest, economical and somewhat liberating. Want to read more :-)
Thanks for sharing. Have a good day
thanks Tom. Looking forward to reading more of your work. Faith