Best Bleary Poems
Faint stars of a bleary sky
don't show the brilliance of clouds
witnessed by the shining eyes
of an inquisitive boy
who lived under them dreaming
and moved by absolute fascination;
he was alone admiring
a firmament too grand
to be comprehended
by an adolescent mind
immersed in sheer contemplation.
Who has a vivid remembrance
of the depth of embittered regrets,
more aware of the passing time
than youth and time never attest?
Who has reflected upon these
and not felt a nostalgic wish to relive
what was too beautiful to be taken away
by fate which never poses to give one
a minute to breathe with ease
and dream according to age?
Who has thought of his mortality
and realized how brief is existence
lived with purpose or none?
I pondered on it continuously
and accepted its accountability
had I come short of my intent!
Faint stars and a bleary sky repress light
and hide the splendor seen on clear nights,
bleariness diminished the intense awareness
of the senses and being overwhelmed
by feelings of discontent, it remains distressed...
until that sunrise gleams invade and delight!
I would have renounced this life
to save someone else about to die
and get the laurel of heroism
that many want without a sacrifice;
I would have given my breath
to let another person succumbed
to a tragic and rare circumstance
regardless of human strength,
live more days that cruel fate
would never have allowed;
don't quick decisions contradict
the dominant altruism?
Let those faint stars scatter through a midnight storm,
no memory of a bleary sky must hang on thoughts;
my youth was joyful searching for lively rainbows,
for adventurous dreams that fantasy couldn't transform!
Not bleary-eyed, for the Lord said to trust,
He always means what ever he says.
So I reach up my hands heavenwards,
And he reaches down with his right hand of
righteousness.
He always means what he says,
I will trust in his ways for that.
And he reaches down with his right hand of
righteousness.
For many times he did just so.
I will trust in his ways for that.
I proved this also ancient men of old,
For many times he did just so.
How much more can I explain?
Yet we hold on O so faithfully,
I will trust in his ways for that.
For many times he did just so,
Even when we least expect, he did.
Where can I look for more?
Yet we hold on O so faithfully,
I proved this also ancient men,
For many times he did just so.
I know that God is so true,
Where can we look for more?
For many times he did just so.
He is God and God alone, he cannot
tell a lie!
I will trust in his ways for that,
He always means what he says,
For many times he did just so,
Not bleary-eyed, for the Lord said to trust.
Pale orb the bleary wake incites
Pallid streams procession ignites
Twilight's caravan gives last beams flight
Deep browns, oranges funerary pyre light
Glare from Day's spent hours moon's spawning rays spite
Day's face shares last glint then bier shutters tight
Into gray abyss Helios's flaming spirit doth kite
In ethereal corridor veiled remnants with chilling vapors slight
Night's doleful dirge; sprightly pallbearers shoulder blight
In vapid sanctuary, a jading stillness appends eerie rite
Nyx's strobe earth's dimmed floor with shadows doth requiet
Sidling tributaries in contrite cadence blink at earth's plight
Slow rhythms of Nyx's bleating requiem soul's sleep doth invite
Standing 'neath rocky vestige on Hatteras Cape
Overhead, sky's billowy caverns offer cerebral escape
Proffering delusions of grandeur in every size, shape
A ventilated ocean of blue; visions of bliss at which to
gape
Yet mind firmly planted in gravity's brace
Earthy ambitions wandering eye doth embrace
Nature's rhythms around beating heart do drape
Cluttered ridges enveloped by Crape Myrtle's sallowing
serape
Dark clouds swoon over the ridges, panoramic view
efface
Malingering light house hovers o'er the shadowy terrace
An angry ocean rises and then tumbles at rocky base
Cool, frothy ocean mist curdles my exposed nape
Cresting waves pound shoals; weary feet do chase
Swirling wind hurdles stinging needles at weathered face
Screaming sea gulls serenade, then with strafing swoops
menace
Sleep riddled with nightmares
The unbearable grief he never wished for or imagined
made him a secluded man shunning all Humanity;
he clung to a feeble breath so void of each certainty,
telling himself he had to fight harder and be admired.
I saw him chasing clouds out of his bleary sky
with an urge stronger than desire, " Let no hope
be held from me, I deserve joy unlikely anybody."
What made change his mind staring at that rope?
How many bottles of rum he had stored in his hut?
Did the small paycheck he earned cover the hefty price?
At no vail, he tried to rob the local liquor store twice;
nobody bailed him out, prison brought despair not guilt.
He sits in the coldest room staring at the darkest sky,
who dares to shake his hand and lift him up to mollify
his confined spirit not emboldened by actual reality?
Help him overcome his dire loneliness and sobriety!