Today’s prompt  was to write a poem with neologisms.

pack yourself in tighter for spring
is broming, shriven in the buds
unfurling, tasted by the wind’s

long spell. tried to stop this from being,
made a well for your head: a bodist
trick that failed, and then failed again.

disaster waits empty stomached,
fuming and goalded, discorded
and sore as a mother on the brink

of abandonment. you think hunger
rumbles deep? it is colossal.
it brings me forever on and on to here.


Picture credit: vintage paint by numbers scene.




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s