As tears fall
I open my moldered eyes to see myself
Blurred and grotty
I’m beginning to rot now
My skin melting into my bedsheets
Moldy and itching with pests
Am i one of them?
Am i another eyesore?
Am i as revolting as the blowflies?
I’ll admit that i feel
Repugnant in love
But how can that be so
When i rot for you?
Look at what i’ve done
All for you
I have never hurt so badly
And this time it’s not because
Of the bugs shredding my skin
Burrowing
But because you never left my heart
You were always there
Just another maggot
Burrowed in my flesh
Categories:
moldered, 11th grade, betrayal, boyfriend,
Form: Free verse
(Cold Harbor, Virginia, May 31-June 12, 1864;
1,845 Union dead, 788 Confederate dead)
cathedrals rise,
tall arching boughs, crisscrossing limbs,
lush, leafy rooftops lofted high
and rustled by warm tender breeze;
green rooftops shimmer, reverent,
while casting shade to consecrate
this hallowed ground,
this battlefield,
topography forever scarred
by trench and earthworks dug in haste
scratched out for fear and valor's sake,
grave-deep furrows
once harbor to
depleted men far from their homes
who wept and moaned and fought, survived,
sad ditch and trench from which strong trunks
loft high the ceiling's verdant vault
while saplings bend in pensive prayer,
roots buried in brown detritus
discarded by last autumn's chill,
dark moldered leaves
now slowly melting into earth
where men once battled, suffered, died…
to ash from ash,
cathedrals rise
November 15, 2022
The Crap Shoot #2 Poetry Contest
John Lawless, sponsor
Categories:
moldered, memorial, remember, war,
Form: Free verse
I've written of great longing while my teardrops flare
Rhyming lines of sorrow that were nested in my mind
Tomes of poetry that exposed the depth of my despair
Now, my heart lies withered; to its fate I am resigned.
My sonnets are all testaments to the love, now haunted,
decaying on yellowed pages, they make my heart bleed.
It languishes with pitiful sighs, ignored and unwanted
like my dust-laden poetry that I will never again read.
Verses were woven tapestries, a lovingly stitched story,
Remnants of us left threadbare, colors dull and faded.
Time cannot repair moldered love to it's former glory.
Ours lies buried in a grave; rotting because it's jaded.
Love spills its final drop as I gasp for another breath.
From this mortal wound, my afflicted soul is bereaving.
I've one last poem to pen, in refrain before my death
about the broken part of me, still mournfully grieving.
September 22, 2020
Quatrain Writing Challenge - Decay
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Categories:
moldered, lost love,
Form: Quatrain
Our shells deform in some odd way…
Our soul and mind are moldered clay…
They twist it and turn it and do what they can,
We slide through their fingers like you would with sand.
We’re corrupted movies; scene to scene
Life makes me ask, is this a nightmare or is this a dream?
They hack our thoughts, our body and soul,
I remember the past; buried along with what they have stole.
We’re the ants and they’re the queen….
Their orders are something we can’t believe.
They command and we obey,
Their orders are here and here to stay.
The snow would drop and it would melt,
Our hearts are nothing but yet to smelt.
Our minds are slaves,
Our souls are pawns…
We seem to think that this is all right,
That our souls and heart are not yet worth to fight…
We’re either the ant or the queen,
And we change by what we have seen.
Categories:
moldered, conflict,
Form: Rhyme
"A woodland path in the dappled sun hushed and quiet"
As creamy blue cloud rests on tall tender trees
Peeps of early morning sun still awakes dossing greens
Dull dews are yet to vanish from their sheltering leaves
Silences of monastery still arrest woodland paradise
The songbirds are yet to reveal songs schedule of the day
The echoing breath of nature
Still nurture patient under slumber's custody
Only four naked legs print love on woodland moldered leaves
A perfect sanctuary for lucky cupid and Venus
As calming breezy strokes of nature
Lull perfectly braided hairs
Affection breathes rhythm to drumming tongues
Sweeping feelings conquer trembling flesh
As lips gently explore one another
Keen tender arms stroll awaiting avenues
As soft sweet moans arouse jealousy among woodland beings
'I love you' falls from ecstasy driven tongues
A perfect world is created by conjoined spirits
Where comfort nourish mind and soul
It's now evening
As weary sun leisurely walks home
A head still rests on sweeter-than-mattress subtle laps
Author: Joseph Osita
For Constance Rambling poet's contest: "Woodland Path"
11/06/2011
Categories:
moldered, love, nature, romance, love,
Form: Free verse