stranded on this isle of the casually cruel,
bracing against callously random fate,
we have held on this far,
let us hold on a little further …
Archive for November 17, 2017
in love with hope …
she comes to me,
offering solace, gentle words whispered in my ear,
she placates me,
her words a tender caress, dispelling fear,
she seduces me, as sure as she breathes fire into my soul,
she teases me, offering glimpses of the promise of being whole,
she heals me, when i’m down, battered blue black,
she picks me up, shuffling my self as bones achingly crack.
in love with her, i know now, without her, i would not cope,
in love with her, i know now, she is abiding hope,
hope lives,
hope breathes,
always … …
neither here nor there …
traversing the meandering bylanes of life,
tears fall,
through the cauldron of strife,
memories like jagged shards of sorrow,
embedded,
hewn into a torrent of emotion,
flow on …
and on,
cascading over raw wounds,
reaching, without
seeking,
peace …
within.
clinging onto filaments of hope,
while hollow words
crawl,
fade,
mope,
slinking away to settle,
on tattered scrolls,
while life persists,
so long as the river rolls…
stricken …
myriad interwoven strands of distilled feeling,
intoxicate me, leaving me reeling,
while forever more, I look up to you,
as I lay stricken, as I lay kneeling … …
a silly schmaltzy scribble …
you may fly away ever so far, leaving me wounded, tending to yet another fresh scar.
you may look past me, choosing not to see me at all, as I pick myself up from yet another fall.
you may not know me, our gaze destined never to meet, while I dream of our paths crossing, the lucky happenstance of seeing you walking down your street.
you may not know the feelings that I hide,
tucked away neatly on the inside,
yet still,
I will be as faithful as the coming in of the tide … …
the comedy of mid-life surprises … …
we have been around a while, we have had our share of tears, and of many a smile,
life has often been kind, though at times it felt like all joy, all peace, was left far, far behind,
now our hair greys and thins, and we have chronic medication in more than a few tins,
we may have seen and heard it all before, yet, and still there is a wish felt deep within our hearts core,
perhaps not of rose-tinted love, or falling stars streaking across the skies above,
perhaps just a need to feel human again,
for the sun must shine after a shower of rain,
so why don’t we give it a shot, for who knows,
things may get a bit steamy, if not desirably hot … …
reflections.
the passing of the years roll on, decades distilled into momentary flashes,
fleeting memories of days gone by, of feelings run dry.
reflecting, some wounds healed, a few raw,
gnashing into the now, lost in the whys and the how.
standing here at the crossroads, divergent paths leading to the unknown,
having walked down these roads long ago,
all that remains – the endless charade,
the hollow passing show …
Scribbled Verse 