Details |
Jennifer Engle Poem
White-jacketed and stethescoped,
He clicks down the empty corridor
In his loafers and khakis.
The rooms of patients long gone home
To heaven or hell are dark and silent.
‘Round the corner, the janitor waves
But says nothing, noticing the fatigue
In the doctor’s eyes.
Another day gone by, he thinks.
How many more will go?
Too many terminal illnesses have
Crept in
Taking over.
Out in the lot, the Porsche is waiting.
For the first time in his life
The doctor hesitates
Then,
Realizing his sin
He walks.
Copyright © Jennifer Engle | Year Posted 2009
|
Details |
Jennifer Engle Poem
I long to find a serum for my soul
To ease the tearing pain
I've come to know.
A potion that would ease my troubled head
and take away the thoughts
I truly dread.
A tonic to erase my memory
of strength and grace which
haunt me constantly.
An elixir to stop my bleeding heart
Would that I never found you
from the start.
I long to find a path that leads to you.
The road before laden with
simple truth.
Were I to find a drug or find my way
I'd take you in my arms and seize the day
And take a thousand pictures with my eyes;
Collateral against tearful goodbyes.
Copyright © Jennifer Engle | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Jennifer Engle Poem
Carved by the Creator, your beauty and strength so daunting.
Loved by this spectator, your existence is so haunting.
Feelings of guilt abound, yet cannot penetrate
the feelings of love that surround and duplicate.
So weak my heart,yet,weakened in my dreams
I falter from the start, or so it seems.
Would that I could sprout wings and fly to you.
So certain am I you'd recognize the truth.
Alas, caught and caged I have become,
Like a tiny bird that will never fly away home.
Copyright © Jennifer Engle | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Jennifer Engle Poem
Loving you, for me, is not the chore.
'Tis trying not to love that tests my soul.
Blinded by the thought of having you,
yet, unable to remember my life before.
Stabbing, tearing, wrenching my heart fully,
No peace comes and helplessly, I drown.
Haunted by the thought of never knowing,
The pain and longing are forever growing.
Terrified of the seeds I must be sewing,
The stabbing in my heart is never slowing.
Finding you, for me, is not the chore.
'Tis trying to forget that opens wounds.
Deafened by the sound of your soft voice,
yet, unable to turn my ear for want of more.
Jarring, twisting, warping my soul fully,
No peace comes and helplessly, I fall.
Haunted by the thought of letting go,
The pain and longing in my heart still grow.
Terrified to think that you might know,
And turn away from me when I bestow.
Copyright © Jennifer Engle | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Jennifer Engle Poem
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
If only hearts were larger than the mind.
Bleeding for what will never be.
At days end, wrenched to pieces that are key
To having sweet release from what I find.
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
Stained, my love unfit with appetency;
Seeking sweet release; faltered faith in mind.
Bleeding for what will never be.
Dancing in the fire of illicit plea;
willfully chastised for pretending blind.
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
Bound by chafing chains, perpetually;
Suffering, by my hand, for that which binds.
Bleeding for what will never be.
Beating through the ache, marked to set me free;
Quelled by unwholesome thoughts and intertwined.
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
Torturing every fiber of my being;
Stabbing with ferocity redesigned.
Bleeding for what will never be.
Faint, and dying still, mind and heart agree;
Forever bound within these chains I’ll be.
Aching as the dim light awakens me.
Bleeding for what will never be.
Copyright © Jennifer Engle | Year Posted 2009
|