Image credit: Rosenfeldtown


Rampaging bulls carve a mighty path beneath an unruffled veil
crashing through intricate lattices of sobriety
Bells in the sanctum peal over the roar of thundering hooves –
tolling ‘Calm! Calm! Calm!’
as gallant pillars erected in times of despair
stand firm against the rampaging surge
– a surge that started from a sock
A sock of unmatched quality
soaked in insidious splendour rumpled and thick seeping viscid ick
permeating the air with H2S flavour
mingled with the insufferable perfume of insouciance
It leaves a rancid trail in which blood red toadstools blossom and thrive
vacuously and viciously congealing in the wake of its venerated rot
A gift from sock
this socking sock
Socking lives with its overarching gloom
out of which those toadfools bloom
sniffling shroom
exacting the moon
Til’ abiding no more the Bulls of indignation rise
Now stampeding
Now unheeding
Forming a relentless tide towards the final wall
The wall that restrains it all

A tic breaks surface

Deafening plea ringing
The wall will hold
The wall of will
will hold

wip – 2016


Olee Baringtang is a Sabahan jane who writes for a bit of sanity. She copy-writes for a living and pursues literature to add meaning to her stultifying living. She believes marketing buzzwords should be obliterated from the face of the earth and wants everyone to denounce superlatives in advertisements. She loves dense prose heaving with action and doesn’t like touchy-feely poetry because it reminds her of all her life’s bad decisions. You can follow her on Twitter or on WordPress.

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