scuffs in the pearl white floor
when she leaves the room,
for empty hospital hallway memories,
haze of sterile gloom
like snails, the chronic men
each slowly wear away,
their minds left to trail behind them,
their faces falling into decay
the grey walls with snake green stripes
always constricting them,
the dim fluorescent flicker of the fate
to which they have been condemned.
He sits, spent, weary, fearful
Of the fading will to rise
To meet the day on its terms
Bear the scorn of those deemed greater
The feel of threadbare jeans
Faded, worn, mended, and re-mended.
He aches for a peace
A detachment from it all
A disconnect from failure’s success
A sunrise without shadow
A past without pain.
And yet he rises each morning
Beats back the pains, the longings,
That complicate his journey
Cloud his destination
Wear away his will to continue
To answer the bell
To go one more round with life.
And so it is that he rises
Knowing that he must
For he is who he is
And must do
what must be done.
John G. Lawless
©10/9/2022
I'm sleeping away from hurt and metaphysical chuckles.
I need little time to track my wings and smile back at butterflies.
There are souls in the flower here but they speak of deceit and friction, perhaps i exist in the other side of my bed where bad influence is violet.
See what strings have cost my fingers of.
I have no flesh to wear away the hate and pain around the needle. My guitar is disturbing my peace.
You’ll come to all but me, O spring, and as always once more you’ll bring
To them your scents, hues, birds that sing, warmth and pleasure and everything
Each needs to live like a real king under your ancient azure ring.
My seared leaves you’ll again forget with your soft, balmy rains to wet,
And will leave in the world’s doomed net of harm and hurt and fear and threat.
Me you’ll only wear out and fret and never graciously indebt.
I smell you, though, and wait for you to drive me mad with longings new
And make of me a wondering Jew with a heart all laden with rue
For this life that’s a drop of dew which disappears so soon from view.
Do as you wish. Leave me forlorn. I am already used to scorn.
My lot’s not a rose but her thorn, to wail, to moan, to weep, to mourn.
My blank garden do not adorn! Of all sorts of hope leave me shorn.
A bird forgotten in the snare with nobody around to care
Should helplessly stay there and stare and wear away when it can’t tear
The ugly noose, loathsome, unfair, and only bear all in despair.
2.12.2013
No comments, please!
just like life tests a man
water will wear away the stone -
I'm polishing the line
The strong grow weaker.
See the lone lioness, his last daughter,
the last of his pride.
An old lion limps,
bones crumbling with each step.
Any day or night
other lions, or hyenas
must kill them -
the once strong cannot remain
to infirm the younger.
An acrid sun flickers flame
over the savannah,
antelope instinctively
race faster
from hair-triggering scents.
A young pride hunts;
hunger will be their own death
predators as vulnerable as prey.
Fawns and calves are born again
into needy mouths,
teeth wear away,
the burnt umber of clawed pelts
seeps deeper into dust.
Age is
Just a Parcel
At teenage we were dates
By gray days we fade wear away
You are
A package and will get broken
Someday up the golden
Staircase falling
Backwards
3/5/2020
Let The Pens Flow Butterfly Ciquain Poetry contest
Sponsor:Jenish Somadas
.
I sweep
And I giggle
I lap
And I break
I puddle around
And I run everywhere
I fill
And overflow
I cause disasters
And create miracles
People love me
And curse me
I come
And I go
I'm hard to hold
But that never changes!
I wear away
And renew
I am myself
And makeup most of you!
What am I?
Water
Days pass by, roses wear away
But as our earth moves around
In another voice it'll have its say
What has left must come around
Babies looking for tomorrow
Patients will buy bone marrow
A dent in the poverty sorrow
At Mars they will love to row
Our children and grandchildren
Will be discoverers and leaders
Future guitar for soul they'll listen
For their poetry novel meters
Smells of your love we don't have now
Tomorrow it'll be a collapsing cascade
Adventurous address in your eyebrows
Tomorrow another pink in your shade
__________________________________________
31 October, 2019
I sense Tomorrow is the Future
Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Midnight comes-midnight goes.
Early hours wear away.
Time to seize the dazzling day.
The sands of time wear away
Like the grains of gold slowly trickling down
Falling from the heavens, or so it seems
The sands of time are neither good nor evil
For they are merely fair and just
Never swaying or bending to our commands
The sands of time continue to trickle, one by one
Like how our days on this earth are numbered
And soon the time will come,
That the sands of time will finally cease to fall
And all that is left is
The pile of golden grains, the remnants of
Our memories.
Our mistakes.
Our love.
Like Leonaidas ,
lets vie for love
take the spear of affection point it to the enemy and when destiny calls,
your heart will fall in my thirsty arms , i will lure every honey in you and rain will fall in bloody tears of lust,it will wear away its footsteps ,we will forget about the past ,those times of Ephialites and the oracles who gave up our souls to the shadows of darkness and bow down to Xerxes and immortals not knowing inside eternity we will both find happiness for we now know the meaning of love,peace joy and trust forgetting those days we cry for warmth and that moment you try to hold my breathe saying "please dont go anywhere" but it was part of destiny,
in that lonely road we never show emotions,
it seem like we were Spartan soldiers we were born to conquor,
raised and trainned for war
you wear away at me with your silence
not with whetted words
or physical altercations
there are no recriminations
No...
it's much more corrosive than all of that
this is the sad fact
apathy barbed in neglect
is the tool that you use
not aware it's abuse
how it scrapes and it grinds
determined not to leave anything behind
day after day
night after night
year after year
till the memory
of who I was dissapears
a little bit more every day
you wear me away
voiceless, I fade
silent in your silent tirade
only pebbles remain
of a once templed soul
and with a little more time
pulverized,
they blow away...
by the constant silent howling
of your loveless heart
Eileen Manassian
I was happy with my parents’ efforts
I carried my degree high
Running home in graduation gown
My siblings lifted me high
My eyes watered with tears of joy
All who came thought I was light
Lit to light the darkness in the village
But I didn’t know it was a cursed flower
My heart grew weary each time I was ignored
The sole of my feet began to wear away
My foes developed swollen cheeks
And carried this balloon around the village
Every night that came went and left me
Sleepless and thoughtful into another day
This paper which people say is light
Has become a curse because I am nothing
Remembering the last visit with my mother
On the other side of the Pacific,
I brush salty tears under
Tangled sea-swept hair.
Twenty years ago at the Oregon coast
Pale legs slung over bleached logs,
We looked to the water--
Sipping coffee, toes digging
For common ground in the cold sand.
The waves did not stop.
We did not recognise the hourglass,
The endless oceanic energy
Beckoning, calling her home.
Last weekend I watched the waves
Wear away tiny footprints,
Flooding remnants of the low-lying castle
My children built before running, laughing
From the swirling surf.
Sand and wind polish my scars.
Warmth turns sand to glass
And particles to pearls.
Related Poems