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Jake Radford Poem
With the furious rage of a thousand Winters,
A sea of injustice, waiting at the spout.
Like the irritated bite of a good man's splinters,
That swindle and split when sweetly plucked out.
The frost-fangs froth into an empty grave,
And leave all, cowering below, to their bitter end.
Sovereign cragsmen, smothered as slaves,
Like a crumbling ship, so desperate to scend.
The mighty Alps, now a fresh garden of bones,
As its prey lie tangled in the ghastly web.
Listen to the innocent and their soft, muted moans,
And slowly keep climbing from your cruel misstep.
Copyright © Jake Radford | Year Posted 2013
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Details |
Jake Radford Poem
Lying here in this life’s final berth,
No longer escaping to the sea.
If the greatest lie of all is not birth,
Death is life’s great treachery.
I think back to the times I spent
Sifting through the briny deep,
Deeply inhaling the saliferous scent,
Pleasure enough to make one weep.
The grave awaits me, I now admit,
As mortality is seeping through.
For if eternity is not a infinite pit,
I hope it ends in the quenching blue.
Copyright © Jake Radford | Year Posted 2013
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Details |
Jake Radford Poem
Brittle bones crackle through the hall,
as I slowly trudge to an empty bed.
Outside my window dies a barren Fall,
and what survives but my Winter dread?
Slipping into the bitter-chilled covers?
shrinking beneath ‘til I’m cloaked blind.?
Despising the demons who steal our lovers?
like feckless butchers of the conscious mind.??
Death stares me in my jealous eyes,
withholds from me his seductive knife.
Does he not hear my bitter cries?
Why plague me with abandoned life??
Copyright © Jake Radford | Year Posted 2013
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