Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

“A meager life!”
the world hurls out.

Brooding rage stirs -
grave music in mind:
an orchestra of feelings,
unsatisfied turmoiled thoughts,
perceived by paining wounds -
heartbeat
	with frightening velocity.

	An enfant terrible -
	Alone,
	singing to himself
	a parable:
	paradoxal
	to martyred music,
	divining 
	death

while the blithe world laughs
with an uplifted voice.


A broken vessel
trapped in
shuddering darkness
and contrasting quietness
secret stirrings,
saturated senses -
	quick ticks the clock…

A twilight lit room:
shining whiteness spreads,
as stars burn bright
and rain sluices down
over sun burnt grass
and folded flowers,
the silver moment
bleached with rain
dies in darkness,
while a woeful crimson
glissades across eyes
acknowledging sorrow:
maybe a disguise
	for vengeance.

A voiceless void:
phantoms of thoughts
from which even
shadows flee.

A lovely child -
alone;
smothered,
by bloodshot clouds…

	and nerve strained eyes...

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