Sorrow. Poems

Bruise and Amethyst

Grief anchored in stone,
tears in layers frown to heal,
burdens drag me down-
growth slows down in ooze of filth
lungs choked, deny me air.

Bile and amethyst
wash the past into the now,
eyes can only weep
only sadness strikes clearly
vision veiled by endless pain

Future sanitised
emerging strong and careful
grief is cauterised
puss expelled with painful squeeze
sorrow becomes a weapon

The Specter

The Specter

Your spent to long
Searching for fallen stars
Your moon slipped away

I hope your wishes were
Worth the price you paid

You failed the one 
Who needs you most

And now you must confront the ghost

fields of life

to wend through golden grasses of my past
      with chill winds at my back from o'er the hill
   oh how I wish the glow of spring would last

thus far behind me stands that boy, miscast
      while just a jester, much too bright and

What's your story?

What's your story?
Is it a sop story too
Cause seemingly everyone claims too
And maybe there's not a good story to tell out here

What's your story?
Is it worth even telling at first
Or you believe it needs to be told
That's why you get all grumpy when no one wants to listen 

What's your story?
Why do you think yours

A strange sorrow once married me

Life, come thou unhurried to me,
Said she, it’s long buried, to me. 

A strange sorrow once married me,
Wonder who’d it carried to me.

Once a bubble dared laugh at me,
Blown soon, it looked harried to me.
	
Where’s the strainer that filters sins?
The query stands parried to me.

What all my joys can sweep aside,
Such brooms have never worried

Broken Things

Broken mugs 

And broken promises 

A broken lamp 

And broken knuckles

A broken TV 

And a broken stack of plates 

Broken drywall 

And broken glasses 

Broken bottles

And a broken door 

This is a broken home

And my heart cannot break anymore

A Masterpiece Written in Dreams

My fingers are already aching,
their muscles weary, spent, and tired.
Sweat soaks through my singlet,
my eyes grow heavy, begging for sleep,
to pay back seventy-two hours denied.

Yet each of my writes lies in his bin,
the sponsor never seems to tire
of casting them there with careless joy.
Perhaps that brings him most delight—
a cross my restless heart must bear.

Would

1410

Lift graced prayers to stay faith's strength on tomorrows.
Belief can vanquish dark depths threatening sorrows.

Weighing Up Bittersweet Goodbyes

Goodbye cuts the air
with an odd, misshapen lance-
too sharp to swallow
it lingers on ragged breath
it's aftertaste scalds the soul

It feeds like a beast
clawing at the heart's locked gate
demanding more tears
its anger never subsides
its hunger never sated

Yet inside the wound
a new dawn begins to break
away from parting
sweetening bitter sorrows
with a palatable sauce

Goodbye has a seed,
to be

Untitled Senryu

creased mind blank uncared  
void visage dumped unclaimed… 
tears dry sub-psyche

Monster

Our home was once full of Laughter
Is now a house full of anger
Feels like were always in danger
Everyday he makes us all suffer 

It was his job to be a provider
Instead thinks himself as a master
Treating us like were his follower
It makes us sadder

He slams our door so louder
It makes us all shudder
We just all

My sky

My sky 
Sadia Sultana shoshi

My sky, let me whisper 
Into thy ears to tell,
How I saw losing myself 
How I jumped and I fell.

If you hear,tell thy clouds 
Tell them to rain,
To hide my tears,hide my story
To hide the raw stain.

If you hear,tell thy sun 
Under him I'm all alone,
If he cries through your eyes
Please

1409

their eyes meet for a
moment—grief flickers softly
then drifts into streets

The Outcast Dove

The outcast dove sits alone, apart
From the rest of those who shared the start
Of the journey that has led them here
And left some full of dread and fear

Its bills and coos don't matter now
For the line they choose does not allow
Separation from the flock and roost
Different, and the choice - the noose

That leaves it twisting

1 reason why

I am the rot beguiling the saccharine summer hue
I am the self in selfish sorrow, sullying the morning dew
Sickened with the mortal blips of emotion
To fall with the fragility of flesh hipped erosion 
Hipped bone beneath browned bandage
Honed the hand hither, 'ncase fickle flesh cannot manage
T'stand aground the mortal vantage 
Health t'sickness, worn to wear,

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