Category: Poetry
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These last seconds
“To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” Ulysses, Tennyson. We were once light of reflex and clear of mind, We leapt cloud ward, and swept caution aside, We were strong, certain and swiftsure. Besides — The world was ours : with all of its riches yet to find. Was there any uncertainty?…
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All I could have
i was the hopeful,You were the hoped for.Mine was the heartful,And you were the hurt full.Intrinsically.Now I watch you meander away,from me. To another ocean, another sea.And though I still am that river,Renewed before your eyes: a well spring:Albeit frozen then fed by a glacial source, I still feel my heart flow away from all…
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the glass translucent
Poetry wise, I’d never want the glass too clear, So obviously, so much so you’d easily know, What I’m saying.
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the sin of empathy
Do not be taken in by the devil’s ministrations,He wants you to feel sorrow for their sorrows,He wants you to bend the knee in forgiveness,And if you stray, if you yield, you will have sinned.Do not commit the sin of empathy my brethren,Do not fall by that wayside as so many have done before,For once…
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only you are there
I know. I know. I know you know. What you’ve done to call to and kindle your sadness.
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too late
When the cold came I cowered in fear When the sun shone I hid my eyes When the wind blew I plugged my ears When the rain flew I shielded my face.
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wait, while the living live
The dinners donor proffered lie now disowned, The flowered wreaths offered are dying browned, Condolence cards too now wait their time of fading, Past companions pass by lost in their grey wilting.
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ink blots
Words penned as if from drops of rain, clouds whispering their misty motes of pain, dissipating through my inspiration. Ink blots on the tear dripped paper.
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time’s ink
Writing the past backwards, I should’ve marked down my spite better. Used a darker deeper lower case. Or sourced a gentler less intrusive font.