Little poems to nowhere
Static on the page
Busy hieroglyphics
On a paper stage
Nimble little fingers
Penned, and penned again
Lines that burst with static charge
Dormant, now and then
Long in tooth, calm in claw
Loaming on the day
Worthy of the modern man
Going anywhere
Lean have they been written
Long have they been fed
Purgings of a sentence
Nevermore unread –
Little poems to nowhere
Harboring away
Little revelations
Come another day –
Categories:
loaming, poems,
Form: Rhyme
and lost while wracked in pains of change,
wilted seed in wintered eye,
hands clenching white in advent rage,
knee bones scuppered, bleaching age,
knelt stung as tears run dry,
writ black ink in masthead sky,
and lost now wracked in changing pain.
and wracked in change, in pain,
this protean mood, forgiving none,
stygian moans in loaming brains,
bowing low in time's cruel reins,
for order, seeking melancholic ones,
forget what bones have said to sons,
and wracked aloud in change and pain.
and wracked in pain and changing hue
if not order's sin, then virtue's deign,
above, above, settled up on virgin's crown,
control, like razor’s gleaming frown,
drawn swift upon a throbbing vein,
flared desolate in absolution's gain,
and hue is wracked in pain and change.
and wracked in change’s cleansing pain,
a night buried lost in clouded dawn,
release a grip, unhinged yet grasped,
living bread coughed out and harshly rasped,
as patina streaks down muted pawns,
we love, we weep, we carry on,
and pain is wracked in cleansing change.
Categories:
loaming, addiction, peace,
Form: Free verse