burden fell from grace &
her voice held meaning
as she peeled the mask
from endeavour’s familiar face
and softly whispered,
it is not the rose’s thorn, buried deep
in your nature’s thumbprint
nor midnight’s misty mutiny, that drips
unto your earthen feet —
but the sting of loss, mirrored
in the chasms of your eyes
as you grasp Understanding
by its vulturous neck
& free yourself from torment.
wrap tattered heart in stoic plastic,
smooth the barren earth which you call home
what once you deemed enthusiastic
now grieves beneath your hollow, shattered dome.
so shall the rains unleash your sorrow
wash burden far beyond your lover’s touch
place careful steps, seek fabled tomorrow
for in the end, the hurt won’t hurt so much.
(Yep, I cheated with the meter. Ha.)
will i find you
where sparrows swallow
milky, filtered twilight;
where curtains sway
in lonely brother’s mournful breath?
will i find you
chipped nails scratching
dignity’s former grave
into dust-covered floor boards
& we wander
between coffee cups and autumn homes
to whatever end.
last night your tiny voice
played catch with moonbeams,
and in an instant of clarity,
your words rang true.
for too long i have buried you
under the stench of make-believe,
and waxen smiles, painted lipstick-red,
fastened lies to the surface.
it was the mirror of the moon
that thrust this bladed truth through prison’s flesh,
and feeble, makeshift lies flaked off my callused mind
to leave me bare & bathed in light.
i am sorry i failed you
for so long.
it is time for change.
Mary over at dVerse invites us to write an ‘epistolary poem’ for Poetics today – I wrote a letter-poem to myself. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, thank you, Mary.
As I am going through some major changes in my life, I do not know how often I will be able to write over the next couple of weeks – time will tell. It will be quite a journey on my end, so bear with me…
I would like to say thank you to my wonderful readers and fellow poets… you never cease to amaze me.
See you soon!
sometimes i lose myself in the gap
between zombie flicks and heroic deeds;
there is a love story, wrapped in plastic,
that reveals my squishy core
and points your way
when pompous days retreat,
I seek refuge, devoid its colors
& smile in grey, not
for a change
in this moment,
when your gaze holds mine,
I shed my heavy armor
and, for just a second,
Fred Rutherford over at dVerse invites us to write a poem on the topic of becoming ‘unplugged’ for Poetics today. Grab a pen and join the fun!