I’ve done what I have promised against.
The cross I bear weighs heavy with fault.
I’m sentenced to wander,
hopeless and trapped in self-pity,
with only regret to keep me company.
Tag: Poetry
Tibbs
By the rickety rim, farewell till the morrow.
Moonlit, as stones were kicked.
Our colloquies went on.
Foolish I,
you…
the antics,
ne’er be by flesh more longer,
but by souls,
still sit nightly.
Am I still?
Am I still…
a string of your heart?
Or does it lie frayed, too torn apart.
Seasoned now, but still we’re broken,
enough has always been, left unspoken.
See my light, I’ve been casting in hope,
I swear this absence has no cope.
Our detached strings will again accrete,
I won’t stop trying until I feel your beat.
We were the Warriors
Indolent Saturdays poking things with sticks.
We ran the back hills of our home.
Three soldier foray, we flanked…pretending.
Skinned knees and eye pokes, no bother,
as we’d rather dare and tell more lies.
Disturbed
Ululating beasts disturb the rem of my fantasy.
I lie cowering from the tap, tap, tapping.
Scads of hurt chase sweet dreams into nightmares
…just this time don’t awaken me.
Weathered
A haloed nimbus, like a surge, it comes on without forecast.
Emotions raw, cold, the flashes like lightning.
Still I have neither a hand to squeeze, nor an ear to my voice.
Nothings protected but my foolish promise to you.
Those furtive actions lie forever buried in the sands of time,
like your lifeless soul that erodes with the winds of change.
The Rain Made Me Do It
I surveil the abstract of raindrops as they slither the outside pane
its journey, merely a moment in time
each tiny drop…
they dazzle like fireworks synchronizing with my deluge of thoughts now cached from a once juvenile me
I beam with the sound of the pitter-patter
the torrent tone lulls me to a reminiscent state as I recall the stories of my olden
The Torment
Again, I lie awake, assuaged by the stillness of night,
a clock ticking, then tocking, slowly teasing me with dawn.
Soon the fringe of daylight will edge toward tomorrow,
exposing my scars of yesterday, barely healed.
Why is there no end to the torment?
Sunshine Blogger Award
Here we go again, The Ink Owl was awesome enough to give me this shout out the other day and I wanted to share this post to thank him. My last blog entry was about an award and I need to work on another right after this. What can I say, my head is starting to swell, lol, but really I am floored that these acknowledgments keep coming my way. You truly don’t know whose out there reading your work on a daily basis and when you get confirmation in the way of these little virtual kudos then that got to make you smile.
Continue reading “Sunshine Blogger Award”
The Inside Chair
The inside chair was always where,
I felt the most at home.
I’d rush to dinner, always the winner,
to sit on my dining room throne.
Argue your matter, try with the flatter,
this spot was mine alone.
If you sat in my place, or stole my space,
Grandmother would make it known.
I sit no more, like i did before,
time has only shown.
That the inside chair is always where,
i’ll miss about my home.
