Heads of Sero

[LitSalsa]

Paperweights hold fast to the desktop
While forces animate feather quills,
Shutter clicks, stolen slices
Of frozen time captured from the grotesque
Heads of Sero, ripping wet planks
From the gutters of dreamless nights,
Starlit, cold with crackling eyes
Bulging through folded parchment,
Drops, clattering like a thousand marbles
Across etched stone tablets;
Stylus poised to fire blistering arcs,
Rapiers of current, words at the ready.
Wills to carry time fused to text and paper
Forging iron bars, hearing the hefty
Clank of the lock barrel echoing through
Hallways of lost memories,
Strange enough to warp the fabric
Of reality by so writing.

[i.koro]

triumph of heads. sero reflects partly because
being cut off
his head taped back on
the picture become a white slat

[cold.love]

the words run like paint drips
the echoes of memory take us there
legends unfold
leaves us all with ghosts
cardiograms in black and white
rhythmic warping of senses
haunted prisms full of white light
hallway sways and we remember it all

[LitSalsa]

Picante

[cold.love]

Bump(picante style)

[theirishsea]

A lot of good lines making this poem memorable. I lock this especially

Clank of the lock barrel echoing through
Hallways of lost memories

Great image and great use of it. But the whole poem is filled with such things.