Occasionally, when I am drowning,
you rise up from that deep sea,
and though my mind is water-logged,
you push my dream-body to shore,
where you breathe your soul into mine.
Occasionally I despair,
an eternal uphill struggle,
a hopeless walk to sanity:
what else is there for me to do
but scream?
Occasionally my stomach rumbles
as pain, hunger and strife
make it grow distressingly tight.
Occasionally I try to fight
and seek that elusive light
at the end of the tunnel
only to find an inky blackness,
ebony obscurity of darkness
that smothers the soul.
Occasionally I search
for a twisted street or
an endless channel
only to discover a world
devoid of any kindness,
languishing in defilement,
foul-smelling with pollution,
tarnished with infamy and slander,
and an ever-reigning lust.
But often I stand up,
for myself if for none other
and look down towards the horizon
and find what I require: hope and trust.
PS Sorry I left Poetry in the lurch but was hospitalised for three days. I hope to read your poems soon. But please give me time.
Who are those first three
who view every new poem
They never comment
~ What do I owe 'em
Thoughts
are bridges...
occasionally fragile,
occasionally
delusional...
Feelings
are vacancies that
the sea of life
lick, later
drains...
And we
missteps,
we were looking for
shelter,
Islands
cuddling...!
like
passing
kidney stones
I have saved mine
so I can brag on the little bastards…
Work, Sleep, Occassionally Eat.
Live for the weekend and then repeat.
Work, Sleep, Occassionally Eat
is not a routine that I wish to keep,
but I must make a living or I'll be out in the street,
so I'll just keep working and sleeping and occasionally eat.
occasionally there is a fire that runs through my veins
that makes me slink into my slinky pants
and imagine the lust that would show in your eyes
but I fall onto my
solemn couch with a
million things to do
in the backyard of my mind
and I smell the tide of the washer
I stare down the dirty plates in the sink
and I see the beautiful blue sky
and me me me just me
and how it is
I give you a deep kiss
and change the laundry
Fits of fancy windrifts blow
tidbits chancy...abyss unknown
bellowing sails mushroomed force
following trails laid out in course
Navigating distant stars
alleviating lost afar
charted seaways ripple past
plumb line used as centered mast
Scales to tip uneven flow
weight to shift as whitecaps grow
determined strength fast to hold
adventures journey of the bold
Occasional drift course askew
from mighty winds above that blew
challenges faced this sea may test
keel's purpose balanced best.......