Little Miss Homo Sapien's Cave

Wordplay

of the palate’s pigment,
the shade of the flavor;
of the palette’s figment,
the mind of the painter.

of the bulb’s ligament,
that holds together light;
of the bone’s filament,
that wires the flux of life.

of the blackish vertex,
the peak of the sombre;
of the brackish vortex,
the eddy of the salt.

of the north pole’s glazier,
the soul through the ice;
of the window’s glacier,
the cold zone of the eyes.

of the proximity
of that word on my tongue;
of the proxility
that is still yet to come.


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6 responses

  1. Neutral Universe

    of anything more than this.
    of anything more likely than not.

    24/01/2011 at 12:44

  2. This is brilliant.
    Very nicely crafted here.
    I like the verse.
    .
    “of the bulb’s ligament,
    that holds together light;
    of the bone’s filament,
    that wires the flux of life.”

    25/01/2011 at 19:04

  3. “of the north pole’s glazier,
    the soul through the ice;
    of the window’s glacier,
    the cold zone of the eyes.”

    I like this…the poem is exceptional.

    26/01/2011 at 02:56

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