Tuesday Tunes – Poetry Through Music, #25, 2016


[Image from Pinterest]

[Inspired by Moby’s “Machete”:]

Head spinning, not here:

three tubes of thick fresh blood

taken at needlepoint to discern,

decide, whether this life

she lived was threatened –

by something inside.


Eyes roving ceiling, not aware:

the rhythm of night just gone

beating her pulse still, like his,

together each inside each,

skin against skin, heat for heat –

joined by fluid lust in blood.


Deed done, arm free:

but soul chained from union nocturnal

to be repeated, God knew when,

but soon, let it be soon –

she almost swooned – too much,

the blood, the… then.


Walking now, foot before foot:

sore, her body, sore, her heart;

sore too her mind from worry

over everything – the this,

the him.  Beautiful,

tortured cliche of tattooed him.


Thoughts too many.  Crowds, too,

a song too loud, too strong:

she falls to ground; into his arms

as she dreams, wrung dry; out-strung.

[Copyright © N R Nolan 2016]