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Monthly Archives: October 2016

Voiceless, She Cries

Voiceless, she cries,
as tho’ a wild wind
summoned her heart
and commanded it
not to feel the madness
which she once fought
so courageously against,
but merely know sorrow,
as it had consumed her;
she was not so wise
as clever in her ways,
borne of derrangement;
her mind now somber,
merely a hallowed field
where she might find rest,
tho’ sporadic and uneasy.

 
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Posted by on October 31, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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O’, Wretched Silence

Erase this most wretched silence,
cut from my breast its vain heart,
’til wound shall but ghastly bleed,
and leave stain upon tender flesh.

Make then a wretched stall of me,
that my breath shall but bleed of it,
and turn my voice not to silent stain,
‘ere shall I word myself to its decay.

Lessen words, as they are too brazen,
lessen breath, as ’tis too heavy within,
make more a rampant stillness attend,
and leave me not aside from its reach.

Let this silence now be its own remorse,
as I have held it for too long sustained,
tear from my breast its burdened weight,
that my voice be more than mere words.

 
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Posted by on October 29, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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This Sun, How It Doth Bleed

And lo, this sun, how it doth bleed,
breath within me burns for its life;
how implosive this sun doth reside,
yet ’twas no more than a vast light
in ages past, ‘ere I was but a child.

O’ how brilliant its veneration be,
star of fire, so much older than I;
as in its place upon my shoulders,
and I, alone in its warm embrace,
tho’ too, oft wounded by its touch.

But, whether comforted or blinded,
am I made complete among stars;
as sun and I have played our parts,
the sun, in caress, and I, in words,
which of us has been more the fire.

 
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Posted by on October 24, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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Inexorable (a haiku)

With exhale of breath,

one can alter tide of time,

yet not breathe the hour.

 
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Posted by on October 23, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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At Twilight (a haiku)

To the west, the sun,

to the east, a sullen moon,

betwixt, mere shadows.

 
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Posted by on October 23, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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Wounded Sky (a haiku)

The sky is wounded

with dark piercing clouds of rage,

yet it sheds no tears.

 
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Posted by on October 23, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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To Awaken (a haiku)

Mountains rise, tho’ staid,

having no sky to congress;

why, then, must I sleep?

 
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Posted by on October 22, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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