Let's just emote the dine!
Far to the North, we increase the enshrine,
send our tails to the features-
Whale away with convenience,
And all the while-
No one clocks the mile~
Our time was the picture,
every slogan here today pleases teachers...
Endemic, like what we wanted supplanted eases creature...
On this winter morning
I’m daydreaming
of warm summer daysprings,
blue lake glistenings,
butterscotch skin,
heartbeat quickenings,
and unmade decisions behind blue eyes.
Prose…
Has a room built in
For the reader
To crawl inside
And sleep
Maybe
More than one room,
Unmaking all beds
That the Poet
—has so carefully made
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Life is a Series of Unmade Choices
Written: by Tom Wright
2/12/2018
Our life path is populated with unmade choices,
And mode of travel accelerates us on our way.
Too often we’re influenced by clamoring voices,
Leaving un-defendable choices on judgment day;
We face each day with a propensity of choice,
Then, by others, discover our options predisposed.
In allowing another to resonate as our voice,
We’ll soon realize that we’ve just been hosed.
One path was made for the straight and narrow,
The opposite encumbered by gimmicks and turn;
To be left as the ground of a pulverizing harrow,
And along with hushed voices, as chaff they burn.
Too busy wrestling
with our own demons
to bring an innocent soul into
the hell of mourning
an innocence lost,
I now grieve
for the loss of a life
never conceived
Dear one, I ask
you to forgive
those obsessions
that ruled the hearts
and minds of two,
blocking your
journey from this world
to the stars
Dear one, I ask
you to dream for me
those dreams yet undreamt
and hope the hopes never hoped,
for those dreams and hopes
still live,
tucked away in a corner
of this old heart
Dear one, I ask
you to feel the love that awaited you
and the pride that even now
burns brightly as a candle
in these eyes,
softly inching towards
its liquid demise
Dear one, I ask
you to take this hand
and hold it, just once
and cry those tears
never cried
for these tears
of mine I fear
are never to be dried
your eyes seem to cry
my mind so blank to the thoughts
the bed where we lay seem to stay unmade
the house so calm and quite ,movement has gorn
the stairs seem to creak to the silence of the night
i sit alone rocking back and forth in my chair
the brandy bottle so empty
the night sky seems to make me cry
you left me on my own so,so ever cold
my heart will slow my mind will stop now I'm forever watch the clock .
the nightwalker