#psalms — Public Fediverse posts

This Mined Mind of Mine

This mind of mine
is a mine
mined with mines,

bombs bombing
balmy balms,

static coms,
erratic ROMs,

a spinning sinning din of
fractured psalms.

Soul soloing
solely on wounded soles,

moldy moles
modifying holes,

digging shrews,
rigging news,

a sonic bubonic tonic of
the unamused.

Eye on the I,
I’d hide from I,
why try,

eye, I,
open wide,

what’s inside,
now out,
look about,

shouting shout,
spouting sprouts,

broken limbs,
token Sims,

a brimming skimming hymn of
the grim.

Blinding binds,
blinds behind signs,

warped windows,
skin grows,

transparent parent
gelling jellos,

a churning yearning turning of
buried cellos.

Nerve serving curve
of the mortal swerve,

a word herd stirred,
a buried blurred bird,

sudden flight,
sodden fright,

a scattered battered bat of
the tattered night.

Hands in the sand,
unplanned manned strands
of what once was grand,

keeps collapse,
seeps relapse,

in the laps of
the lambasted land,

vain veins
veined in clay,

waiting gray,
weighty water
washing away,

a dim lit hymn-bit limb of
decay.

Still—

slurping krill,
burping bill,

Be still,
be still,

not my will,
but thine,

new wine,
do dine,

demining
this mined heart of mine,

never mine,
ever kind,

sever the binding line,

and I,
eye,

am no longer
blind.