Category Sad Poetry
in a boiling sea.
Moments
of a coiling me.
Roots finding no soil
A mind lingers in turmoil
An endless journey
Unable to flee
Another year’s at end,
The passing of the leaves all mark
The absence of a friend.
The sky is crisp and clear and blue,
His breath is on the air,
He silently walks through the street
With sunlight in his hair.
His eyes are cast down at his feet,
He hurries to get home,
Afraid to stop beside the park
With the blackened dome.
Dangerously so.
With yesterday’s eyes
and tomorrow’s heart.
Anxious to end the end,
though it’s just the start.
But you never cared to look over your shoulder.
You fastened your pace and I failed to follow,
Left in a land even darker and colder.
Of a general pointing straight at me
And the words below shouted out
That a soldier I should be.
Yes a soldier now that was a thought
I’d never had before
I didn’t fight, I’d never fought
And I’d never been to war.
But myself, and millions of others
Decided to heed the call
And despite the tears of our mothers
We trooped off all proud and tall
Together as mates from our towns
All over these sceptered isles
We left young and happy, but soon frowns
Replaced our naïve smiles.
peeling skin with the broken promise of cooling
as she waits
to be pumped full of salty brine
and then discarded, debris
carried by the waves until she
washes up on some strange, sunbaked shore, a
sea-scratched corpse, the
refuse of murder, or perhaps,
suicide
she bobs up
and down, violently
tossed by the waves, frantically
snatching rapid half-breaths-half-gulps-of-ocean before she’s
plunged ten feet
under, then
propelled back up, an insignificant
buoy caught in a
cyclone’s raging passion. his arms
grasp at her as
forcefully as a prayer expands out against
her chest, calling
for ocean to swallow the
naked groans and shrieks yanked
out into the unforgiving air—
each scream,
a plea that she might
die this moment, escape
the body convulsing and writhing,
possessed
Like a loose string
Out of tune
Out of place
Not welcomed in your vocalized melody
A mistake
My own ears whisper truth
But my eyes deceive me
To watch you
Plucking the chord
So desperately
So desperate
For it to belong
For this weary soul?
Just to wrap her in love
Before she goes awol?
Tired of all these miseries
She seeks some solace,
Tormented with questions
She’s a hobo, now turned soul-less,
Wandering in the crowds
She searches for one single face,
A broken heart an empty room
A heaving breast that goes untouched
A velvet thigh no lovers blush
No lips to part
No gentle kiss
The disease locking away his memories.
He no longer remembers the stories he once told me.
The stories that made me smile.
The stories we all remember, all of us but him.
