Round and round about they sang
the freedom of the hollow frame
it withers with the whistle-winter
flutters as petals on the grassy heather
same, and yet, a broken same
lost but never found its earthen pang.
Round and round about they sang
the freedom of the hollow frame
it withers with the whistle-winter
flutters as petals on the grassy heather
same, and yet, a broken same
lost but never found its earthen pang.
Destiny
occurs to me
moment to moment
in the statue’s lament.
A passing tourist
burst
stoned depression
with questions of conviction.
“If ordinary people complain that I speak too much of myself, I complain that they do not even think of themselves.”
~Michel de Montaigne
“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
~Eleanor Roosevelt
Consider what you think justice requires, and decide accordingly. But never give your reasons; for your judgment will probably be right, but your reasons will certainly be wrong.
~Lord Mansfield
Opportunity is a bird that never perches.
~Claude McDonald
The flower that you hold in your hands was born today and already it is as old as you are.
~Antonio Porchia
Little bird let fly
Don’t you dare lie
Beside me in the grave,
I dug this cave
For me and not no other,
Smothered myself and fled my brothers;
Enslaved, if you will,
I know it’s no Seville,
But it’s my soul at the reckon,
And that wreckin’s beckoned,
And try as I might,
I’m dying of fright
Of life and of you,
Engrained on me as a stinging tattoo.
Won’t do us no good to wonder,
Tip our heads to call the thunder;
I’m already killin’ myself slowly,
Me, wholly unholy
And I’ll not see you follow me whereby
Your own bitter end supply.
* My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well–they’re a skilled bunch of poets, with a strong and supportive community. Enjoy!
Baked moor breathe
still greening, grass grows
above wrecked waves.
Commit unto me
the ability to See;
there is so much I wish to Learn,
no longer shall I simply yearn.
Commit unto me
the secrets of the endless ages
bound by the winding passages
of your shadowed mystery.
Let all be bared to me
as I commit unto your halls—
winding, coiling in a countless web
of one path, bound to a single center.
Take my eyes
and let the darkness grace,
eyes blind but arms outstretched,
with mind open to embrace.
Cast aside the clinging tatters
for immaterial metamorphosis
from the chains of that society
that barred me from your gates.
Lo! No more bound
I float into your grace
and rapture myself
upon your delicate caress.
Shut out the light,
stretch out existence;
the senseless path becomes
alighted by reality, purified.
In you the sky is my solace,
dancing and diving through clouds,
limitless in my exploration,
but grounded—finally connected.
Others jeer amidst
the fickle insecurity
bred into imprisoned forms—
bound body, mind, and soul.
No fear, march unhindered—
their rage is not for you;
still wrapped in grim conformity,
blinded minds bar ascension.
Noise topples as I touch the center
and everything falls away;
complete, I breathe at last—
Your corridors have set me free.