Co-Morbid

My words are cutting themselves again;
razoring their loosely-sutured syllables,
deep as white-eyed bone.

The suave dipththongs butchered
to the cadence of bloodletting
in hemorrhagic oppositions.

Stapled-closed sentences, smeared with Iodine,
and subcutaneous sentence diagramming
for the retractable scalpel
swiveling along the edge,
of the well serrated cliche.

Once I pressed my wordy flesh
against the wrong side
of a paring knife, while paying no attention
and suddenly,
and without warning
it gave, like an over ripe peach
to the cleaver-
and after that, I was hooked.

Green Iguana
creation sometimes comes from destruction!

sonetta
i know words are powerful but this one just takes it to another level....

Ben Gieske
Your creative use of grammar certainly evokes vivid and effective images. The sounds of the words you incorporate add an extra sensory dimension to all that you feel and express.

Michael J. Gale
It doth seem a little cold and morbid in thought at first,against the cold steel scalpel. But changes course to a much smoother rhyme as all is reavealed beneath the operating table's fare,in a very good and poetic display as in the writing which,all We be sewn. Great poem in artistic bleedings to heal the scab of our originality and ode of the eyes and heart,and brain,that slowly drains straight to our heart to gain confidence in style and drip back onto it's original frame of mind and acceptance,by all. I really loved it.

carol
quite a poem in fact i find the last line interesting

Mike
I just love the bloodbath of words.... Mike