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Open Poetry #39

An Inquisition (personal)

themute
Member

since 2006-05-08

Posts 469
Maryland

0 posted 2006-10-11 07:05 PM

An Inquisition By Patrick Holbert

I feel a longing to be beloved, and come the faces come
To share moments on the run, to run in fields of sharing,
Where the thoughts, the insecurities gets never in the way.
But nay! For in the visions of my adored I am a stickler.
And in the visions of my pupil beauty, I am the breather
Of more-as-more and by-the-by of scrutinized behavior,
Yet veiled by plainness, unrecognized, is my true nature.
For every fault I find in them or aggregate, I for beauty
See pronounced, amplified ten thousand fold, as with
Beauty be in fragrant nights, it also lies with foul-full sights.
For beauty be in eyes of holders, and I hold many candles
For my leapt for loves do seem to me, impossibly perfect;
Religiously to me as I worship them so whole and well,
Majestic sounds their siren songs, sung as do the nightingales,
Emoted wise and fair, for they are my fancy free, yet encaged
By their very will to never be confined, to never love
With whole hearts, whole minds, liberated, infinitesimally.
I would bare the burden, the breaking of their bonds,
As broken were the chains whence Thesues was set free.
But nay! They see me speckled with tarnished mind
And matter, seemingly tired, broken, lovesick since
My every attempt of expression spoiled, my every chance
For love is squandered, and my love for them belittled.
Should I place my softest hands upon their fires to be burned?
That I might know -for every second- of their laughter,
Or should I still be cold; kept still within my prison somber
Taken ne’er to lighter places, where my love would be-wonder.

I am the two-toed wanderer

Gentle Spirit
Member Patricius

since 2000-10-09

Posts 13989

1 posted 2006-10-11 07:44 PM

For beauty be in eyes of holders, and I hold many candles
For my leapt for loves do seem to me, impossibly perfect;
Religiously to me as I worship them so whole and well,
Majestic sounds their siren songs, sung as do the nightingales,
Emoted wise and fair, for they are my fancy free, yet encaged
By their very will to never be confined, to never love
With whole hearts, whole minds, liberated, infinitesimally.

Deep writing here, intense. This part tho' just blew me away. Nice work here.....

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