the prophet grazed his tongue
on the stone walls of ancient tombs, speaking
in ripples, riddled –
while he yet walked among us
“blood shall kill no man”,
he once said, bound beneath
his righteous cape, stitched in ReD
with callused hands; eyes shifting
burnt his voice to ash,
turned blood to steel, sneering,
just to prove him wrong.
One photo, two poems… a challenge amongst friends – without peeking!
photo credits: twistedlamb.com
About Miriam E.
Somewhere along the way, I started writing. If you care to look beyond the jokes & smiles, you will find me a bit of an introvert, spinning through life one clumsy step at a time, fortunate to not have skinned my knees one too many times yet.
When everything gets a little too drowned out by the white noise of this planet, I tend to reassemble myself at the keyboard in an attempt to slow down & breathe.
English is my second language. I love how it feels on my tongue and how the words can be shaped and sculpted, so be patient with me — I am experimenting.
Enjoy, if you will.
I adore this – the first line the prophet grazed his tongue, in fact that first stanza – WOW – you have not lost it my lovely. It is has been so long since we collaborated – and I am glad you are back – 🙂 xx
awh thank you… i am glad, too 🙂 xx
That is wonderful. I loved- ‘speaking in ripples’ and the last stanza. 🙂
thank you, HA – so kind of you to visit… your warm words brighten my day 🙂
Loved the first verse especially. It drew some beautifully dark images in my head. 🙂
thank you, Kitt – glad you enjoyed 🙂