mint leaves seep in the
bottom of the white tea cup
forming our futures
~ swaying to the zephyr's song with contentment, the seep monkeyflower ~
Date written: 09/10/2021
No warrior’s death is coming for me
no blood-stained sword will release
my foolish life from its hollow chest
so slow I die on this field of shame.
Stench of copper vile taste of metal
adrift I’m alone and battered and torn
oh that I could recompense my love!
No quiet wake of honor shall be held
no slow loving march of the damned
solemn to hasten me to eternal sleep
no I shall ever wail silently as I decay.
Terrible mists of doom rise eerily and
creep hauntingly before my fading eyes
cast upon the distant shore of love lost.
No angels of mercy will soar this field
thick with the rancor of my bitter defeat
they will not remove this elegiac song
shrouded by sick stench of stoic hope.
Oh that I could in great haste be felled
not seep bone coldly into Hades cruel
might his dread hot abyss of suffering.
No arrow swift flying will find its mark
no sword nor spear will ever pierce me.
Aye, this poison by which I’ll not die
looses the design of even black vultures.
I will wither and linger alone as it reigns
cold perfect terror over me and claws at
where slow my life leaking seeps to hell.
As Low Midnight Sounds Into Sad Soul Seep
When aching heart pleads deep for break of day
As low midnight sounds into sad soul seep
Lonesome the solitude that has its way
When stabbing sorrows deny peaceful sleep.
Wind outside blows in, gusts of prancing pain
A cold that births chills of darkened dread
Echoes of her kiss, memories remain
As dead dreams float above her empty bed.
Great hard blows hit with chiming of the clock
As visions parade before teary eyes
Head pounds like a sledge hammer breaking rock
When recalling her vows and well spun lies.
Wind outside blows in, gusts of prancing pain.
Echoes of her kiss, memories remain.
Robert J. Lindley, 9-16-2019
Sonnet, "Dark" ( When Dark Of Night Delivers Those Lost Love Blows )
Note, Recollections of youthful loss and nights of sorrowing pains,
wild youth costs, lost loves and echoes that yet visit on dark nights
when shadows come out to play..
white thrush and white crow
fight which one's biggest outcast -
black sheep watches them
*The idioms “white thrush” (merle blanc) in French and “white crow” (belaya vorona) in Russian correspond to “black sheep” in English.
11.07.2019
Black Sheep Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausin
Weeping, my tears do seep, into rivulets so deep
Abseiling, down my cheeks further, they do creep
Making their final deathly leap fall onto my breast
Thus, invited into my open torn heart as its guest
My emotions, again sent around, this broken soul
Until once again, this soul can be rendered whole
And the open wound of my heart, then but a scar
With my then, darkened thoughts, darken as char
Give way to emotions of a brighter notion as arise
With only tears of a newer life, as all my hurt dies
Seep is a leak, a loss, a waste.
Seep in a desert is a place to drink.
A seep pervades, exudes, oozes, contaminates and ruins.
Relentless and gradual, a seep in sleep
pervades, percolates and permeates.
Life and love, joy and laughter
Is what everyone is after
Its easy, not very hard
If you just let down your guard
Opening your heart up wide
Happiness will seep inside
Giving you a strong sensation
Of warmth, smiles and elation
Lifting you right off the ground
Knowing that you have just found
The meaning of what life is
When you get your first sweet kiss
From someone who’s meant to be
Your true love and destiny
Now your life is new and grand
When you hold your true loves hand
Across the bridge
In to the depths
Of the other side
I felt the faint prickle
Of something
Not alive
Moondust felt it too
Of cold winds
Tattered cloaks
Blowing through
Moondusts’ horse
Whose name is known only to her
Shivered and snorted
The rising cold air
Let us leave this place
My longbow unsheathed
Arrows of brown and gold
At the ready
Moondust magic
The light wreathed
I felt it deep
Moondust too
That evil can seep
In to beauty
And stain it in darkened hues
As one
Evil cannot prevail
For love
Beauty and magic
Stars
Will never fail
It cannot divide
What lies within
Will never hide
It bursts forth
Soft amethyst light
Washing away
The stain of the night
A thousand times I've made myself
Into an interprative lie
A thousand times, a million words
That never will quite die
But in the truth, so continent
Is nothing that cannot be bent
Within these words, this plenitude
Is nothing of an origin
Within these lies, one bit of truth
Is only found within a facet of interpretation
And so we feel we know each other
Through the words we read, twice writ
But in all words, so many meanings
Kill all hope of understanding it
One word, one touch of mastery
Finds greatness only in what's seen
By those who are quite predisposed
To look for life in words transposed
Upon a page, so blank, so bare
That all the soul must still be there
Within that spot of black, inside the space
Surrounded by its like. There's left no trace
Of individuality within the frothing, dying sea of words once writ, twice faded, lost inside a sea of meaning, tost upon the shore of all that's seen by those who know what their own might-have-beens could mean to one who's never tried to understand, nor dared to try the hand of fate against a raging sea that took the form of fractured metaphor.
The soul seeps through.