in iris i e s
s l
moon
b l e
e d
s maroon waves of warmth ~
raspberry recluse
The marooned mind molded in
webbed design,
laces the lattice of psychic pattern,
innately configured.
In its fold the rainbow secrets lie,
defiantly dormant,
a captive of my capricious creation,
inherently content,
morphing into a Narcissus nestled in
introvert isolation,
where in my realm I am me,
aberrant recluse.
wilderness
whirls leaf dervishes
solitude
spins its muse
nested within his life tree
hermit’s mind set free
Allow me to introduce
the hermit Hugh
who
I do deduce
felt it within himself
to eschew
an embrace
yet
being obtuse
when on a wild chase
did goose a moose
in the caboose
then a disgrace
but such behaviour
did induce
Bruce
another recluse
to pick up the pace
when playing footsie
under the table
fast and loose
unable to identify
with cacophonous din
caused by stuporous minds
we take shelter in silence
aglow with light of God
perhaps it is escapism
as we search for rainbows
yet to manifest in the blue sky
which are already created
in the cave of our heart
Facebook people I may know, do they know me?
If they do they might request to be a friend
through our Facebook interface quite easily~
but a recluse does not embrace modern trends,
unless you message a most poetic plea,
my hermitage I will happily defend;
solitude is the keystone of sanity,
all else is victim to mortal vanity!
‘I’m a failed Muslim.
I drink raki now,’ he says.
A bottle twinkles
on the upturned orange box.
On the unmade bed,
a punch-drunk pillow
lurches in a sea of ruptured quilts.
‘I never pray,’ he adds,
as hawk-eyed Ataturk
retreats to an ascetic frame
and glowers at the room.
And we who are too precious
to confess our faults
feel awkward in the silence.
Turkey, 1990
First published in Blue Minaret
In marooned mind shaped in webbed design
the strands of psychic hues are patterned.
In its fold rainbow secrets lie
as captive of my own making,
turning into Narcissus in introvert insight,
where I’m with me as an aberrant recluse.
I will slowly fade into a shadow
Without essence without breadth
You will not understand me
I will follow you and watch you
But I, that once was, won't
I will fade into my shadow
A solid relic, a light reflection
I will be, but in the shadows
To follow you and to watch you
But I, will be long gone
I will be with the shadows
With those arduous soles who trod
Murky dusks avant-garde
For they are now long gone
Into solitary recluse
I will sometimes reach out
To whisper to you and uplift you
And you will reach out
But I, will be long gone...
Into the shadows
-I had to repost this after experiencing a ps bug when adding audio--
“the beauty of the rainbow mind
I chase in the introvert realm
following the flashes of mirage” -
Quote by Poet
mind molded in webbed design
strands of many hues patterned
strange motifs not unified
in unorganized psyche
in its fold dark secrets hide
not known to the outside world
taciturn mind never cares
it slyly bears the burden
captive of my own making
I discern all my dreams break
hurt introvert senses whine
I suffer mutely alone.
I then turn to Narcissus
find me chase melting mirage
to the oasis of joy
where I’m with me as recluse
Recluse
You kept me away i know
Bcoz then I kept away from you too
I felt like being barred in a dungeon
Suffocating to hav a glimpse of you
And now I enjoy the freedom from your punishment
I don't idolize your soul anymore but love the distance
Golden dawn, morning dews and the sunshine
Are the closest to me and where I breathe free
You are but a dream that died away
And I know I feel much prettier as I tread to seek
a new world.
heart of compassion, stifled by rejection
concealed with conscientious imperfections
marvel mind mortified by man made mistakes
confined in constraint, no mental escape
flunking society's supposed expectancy,
failing oneself, free-falling inwardly
sparkles in eyes subsided, light subdued
flame flickers restrained by winded worries' mood
foreboding face, faded flat with fatigue
harness of helplessness, harrowing grief
sandbag shoulders, sullen with unbounded burden
unknown, none come close, to help the hurting
9/9/2023
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 swoon
Nor do I ever sleep in 'til noon'
I'm a hardworking, fun-loving bloke
who appreciates a cold beer and a good joke
Married with kids, I encourage them in
math and science, for that is the future
Better that they can program computers
than study Latin and Greek with a private tutor
I am a poet, not a recluse
I have morals and values, I'm not 'loose'
I want my kids to pilot jets, not sit in a caboose
to be proud descendants of Theodore Gisell*
~ not Dr. Suess
________________________________________
'Dr. Suess' was Theodore Gisell's pen name. A
graduate of Dartmouth College in the 1920's, Gi-
sell was a man of action and adventure. Among
other gigs, he reported on WW2 as an embedded
reporter in the trenches with the troops. ~ gw
I longed for a past
Never meant to last, but now,
Only a matter
Of whether I can truly
Outlast seeming cast aside.
always about me
certainly no need for we
much better alone
ample anguish to bemoan
no one else here disagrees
though rather subtly
talk with me regularly
nobody to intercede
always stick to my own needs
resentments usually
no one else will win
is that really such sin
to tilt the wager
to being in my favor
never need to be chagrined
no need concealing
this ego needs some healing
recluses survive
unwanted dead or alive
we are no slaves to feelings
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