Phrenectomy

Here’s a poem I wrote about Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. 

From the groin, a tide recedes

Foam from loin, a whisper precedes

A vision grows where golden hair blows

Venus; graceful, loving, gentle and pure

Upon a shell, her beauty shines like a beacon

Where the wave parts,

Whispers and weakens

In bloom, the spring starts

Whisked by wind and Flora alike, 

Cloaked in light and almost Christlike

The soft embrace of her love alone

Is enough reason that the sun shone

Thanks for reading. I also have my very own online exhibit showing right now, I’ll link it here. Here’s another poem I wrote:

There are bear traps outside

And sometimes if you’re unlucky

You accidentally step inside

And scream Hallelujah like Jeff Buckley