Laura Breidenthal Poet Free verse

The Broken Urn

Eyes flared in agitation
Damasked in utmost lament
The tyrants laughed in vanity
Remains of his mother lie still
As if the winds were holding their breath
The urn cracked and cold as night
Alone, the eyes softened
His heart a hermit of radiance 
Temples tingled as silence stayed
The unprofaned laughter now ash-shamed
Hot tears of fervor reduced their pig-headed ways
He kneeled to his mother as they gazed
In the urn she no longer cried
Even in the urn did she not abide


April 28, 2014

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James Marshall Goff June 1, 2014 at 10:40 AM Laura....intense....absorbed with multiple readings....each read picking up nuances...good poem...jimbo

Duke Beaufort May 28, 2014 at 6:23 PM The different points of view that come from the variety of behaviors and the shame that was felt by the heartless are making me smile :).

Justin Bordner May 27, 2014 at 1:55 AM Laura, you have become a Master Poetess before my happy eyes. I am just so merrily saggered by your brilliance. This reminds me of my Mother and her unbreakable tenacity, I thank you. Love how she refused to settle for ashes, and his loyalty is so moving. I quote the entire write, admiring the language, and vision, wow!!! Another FAV. J.A.B.