Best Recluse Poems

I relinquish my pen before the storm
of her tears falling upon my bare arm
her gentle whispering breathed in my ear
Muse of mine, adieu to your wit and charm

With piqued reasons I have come to deduce
It's time to say fond farewell to my muse
She should seek...

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a state of being     lying-in     an ascetic shield...

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Simon was simple
Not that one would notice;
Dark blue his jeans
Dark too his dreams....

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Curtains drawn, clouded moon
Silent streets, and swaying branches, silhouetted trees
One apartment upstairs, resides sorrow
Dimmed lights, windows are shuttered
Ticking relentlessly are clocks
Days, hours, minutes are passing
Closed are doors, but memories creep inside
There lived joy once, yet fate is cruel
Heart barren now, and eyes empty
Lingering stories dwell...

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Close the gates, throw the key, lock me in. 
No  one  sees  me,  I  see  no  one.
Construct walls with no windows.
Don’t come any closer.
Total seclusion!
I s o l a t i o n,
Is complete.
Let me-
Be.
...

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The universal dream is still alive. 
But has become a ragged recluse.
Having fled hearts of negativity.
Though wingless it still breathes.

Dreams move about the deepest greens and blues. 
Looking for peaceful place to roost.
When the pace slows you can see it,
That speck of gold in globes...

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The Brown Recluse, its pathway goes
Past radiator’s stanchion rows
On to the corner, up the wall
Across the ceiling then to fall
Upon my bed. But no one knows.

This silent killer never slows
When seeking prey, seeing all,
No soul sparing, and few recall
The Brown Recluse!

On some its horrid bite...

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To Henry David Thoreau

The night
Doesn’t have to speak
The room turned cold
Egotistic macabre
An aeon
Sequestered and
Being lonely on the bed
Shivery
Agitated nightmarish
Repulsive grim from a clock
That eyed a mascaron cheek
In the wall
Living in an errand not your country
Staring
The far distance
and the space of the eye through
Unbearable
Silence
The miles off...

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Ghost voices are whispered, as the pages unfold
As I search out a treasure,
in a timeless story told
A musty, weathered novel, is a measure of pure gold
Leaving me breathless, in the somber library's fold

I envy the heroine, who is fair, with slender build
Overwhelmed here by...

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He/him (ratty, scrawny, 
and tetchy ugly villain)   
scurried into dark recesses of hermitage
averse to cavort, frolic, inure himself
into the duplicitous schemes
capitalized, glorified, popularized

courtesy vanity of *****sapiens
lest imp of the pervert 
already sacrificed as renegade
hashtagged heretic condemned 
without merciful intervention
after being duped into...

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Fearing
The busy world
And billions of people
The young man afraid to start life
Scared that he will never be accepted
For things, he doesn't understand
Ashamed he hides away
Destined to be
Recluse

6/27/2017

Created for: 
Form R - Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by: Broken Wings...

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Living
In the shadows
Of   society's   light,
An outcast I'll remain it seems,
As for most they live in fear of my ways,
My appearance may be as hard
as stone, But I have the
Heart of a  true
Artist.

28~June~2017

For Broken Wings' contest...

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Heretic condemned to burn at stake
reprieve eleventh hour granted clemency
commuted death penalty
criminal sentenced solitary isolation
rat infested dungeon ultimate punishment
doled out after protracted proceedings
courtesy amazing graceful puffed dragon
unwittingly delivered merciful respite.

Cowled ascetic busied himself
exotic gaseous/ liquified potions
tumbled, gurgled, bubbled...
lethal skull and crossbones
labeled mixtures especially intriguing
adept alchemist...

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Red blood courses through my veins
    I've written my will, I pay my bills
  The currents of the day reach me too
    I am a poet, not a hermit

  At the sight of blood, I do not...

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Artfully dodging explosive solutions
pretending shackles restrained prisoner 
lobbed pseudo Molotov cocktails 
kindly, loosely, and mutinously linkedin 
liberal short (make believe) chain
leashed faux abysmal isolated confinement
former courtly poet,
who consumed prison fare 
equalling bread and thin gruel
poetical, quizzical, and rational thinking
wrought eventual gladness!

Meanwhile elsewhere within 
another complex...

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