Year
pearls of change
and fear
the hand of darkness
the hand of darkness
~~
virtue disgraced
the ordered path:
dazed and dismayed upon the wrath
~~
constrained by charge
in haunt of want
the bleeding scourge,
illusion’s taunt
~~
streets of limpid water
and bottles
that float in empty grace
~~
gilded chain
from wandering
drawn
drawn
~~
humbly grasping
for manna's
sleep of nightly senses
~~
artful soul
secreting the culture
of a world's scroll
~~
Dying novas,
rising savannas:
forgotten past and tattered future
~~
sand that sinks
about our frame:
an iron heart, a will that's lame
~~
phantom wings
enslave the touch:
it’s dark, we’re blind, in vain we clutch
~~
whitewashed face:
the inner burn
of depths we churn
~~
a fairy's tale
besetting
a wanting street
~~
wink of eye
and pretty plans
but only the sky
can touch our hands
~~
lashing the sun
and riding
and riding
a self-inflicted mirror
~~
fat, greedy, hanging on
to six years’ idyll time:
it’s lost, we're gone
~~
plagued by desire
in want of fear
the suckling child
the singeing sheer
the time we smiled
is now reviled
bewitched in tears
a burning pyre
a burning pyre
Posted on dVersePoets for Tuesday, 4/10/2012
P.S. I am actually pretty happy, despite the theme of these poems. I wouldn't say they have much to do with my real life except in the most loose kind of a way. It is more when I get a string of inspiration, I follow it.
P.S. I am actually pretty happy, despite the theme of these poems. I wouldn't say they have much to do with my real life except in the most loose kind of a way. It is more when I get a string of inspiration, I follow it.