Please let me go please let me go let me flicker out of existence for a while Let this heart still let this mind be silenced let these feelings fade until I can bear to face them again.
Tag: free verse poetry
Poetry – Is there meaning here?
Is there meaning here? I stare into space oblivious to all but my own numbness, hoping for a call - a beckoning voice to draw me back from the edge of my self-imposed exile. Drop the feathery gauze from these old, battered lenses and push me if necessary out of the warm niche carved long ago in this mount of regret.
Poetry – Why do i
Why do I often find you staring at the moon with such desperate attraction, only to turn your back towards its soft rays of beckoning light; allowing your frigid feet to stumble forward and embrace the subtle call of the darkness pervading all the shadows before you?
Poetry – Buttered Toast
As the toast fell from the counter, crumbs went everywhere. She sighed, but instead of reaching for a dishrag, sunk her toes into the thickly buttered side facing up. For a moment, the kitchen felt like a spa.
Poetry – On Chasing Adventure
Doubtless,
the best
has yet to be said
of his wanderings.
Writing of his life
in seclusion,
he says:
Nothing
is more beautiful
than home.
Poetry – When He Thought of Death
When he thought of death
(if he thought of it at all),
his mind took it to be
a burden of life,
for everyone knows
that this earthly shore
is terribly infected
with the miseries
of numberless mortals
who slowly died,
exhaling away hours
with each breathy
rise and fall
of those fragile lungs.
Poetry: Nightlights
I got a new blackout poetry journal that uses classic literature to inspire new works of poetry. This first one is my attempt at making original poetry from a random page of J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan:
Nightlights
My love,
were not all natural
dreams forgotten?
The skeleton
crawled about the floor,
rattled up the chimney,
and bathed her hand in sleep.
Nightlights pulsed
while strange children
found new mothers
in the faces of the night.
Once all were safe
her fears sat down
by the quickening fire,
warming the nursery.
Maranda Russell 