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Open Poetry #51
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Word
| Open Poetry #51 |
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Word |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California 
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Word I put the pen to paper To bleed the silent rage— Bring emotion to taper. Can’t seem to turn the page. The last of hope descending Upon this vanquished earth, I’m tired of pretending Her kiss to be of worth. So if the horse ain’t dead yet, I’ll kick it one more time. Images I can’t forget, I’ll cast to stone in rhyme: The emptiness that fills me. The tear-stained agony. The cold silence that chills me— That never lets me be. Endless ache of untouched skin, The chastisement of need. The heartbreak of giving in, In mind, if not in deed. The darkness, like a cradle, That sways me soft to sleep, Then scoops soul like a ladle It pours unto the deep. Yes, I put pen to paper. The wind stirs, if unheard. Although I cannot shape her, I bring her form to word. The depth and dark of empty— The essence of a void Given to necessity In the heart she destroyed. Michael Anderson 2/02/2021 [This message has been edited by Michael (02-04-2021 02:04 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2021 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved | |||
Paul Wilson
since 2002-07-07
Posts 4711United States |
Michael...I'm a firm believer that writing will and can cure many things we go thru in life, be it hurt, love or loss of someone special. Be strong and keep writing my friend the pain will get better with time...Paul ~~To share my poems with you is to share my heart with you~~ |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
Indeed, Paul. It's a love affair I have with poetry...and even if in and of itself it cannot cure the pain I feel, it surely makes it bearable and grants me peace with it. A gift I will always thank God for. |
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