This Day

This is one that started to form last night, and coalesced into completion this morning. It’s been a while since I’ve posted something new, so I hope you like this one.

This day,
This day of dark days,
When my world at last is ended;
Such storms and tempestuous sky
Will crash and roar and mourn
At my passing.

This day,
This day of dark days,
When this life of mine is finished;
Will raise an ocean overhead
Of fierce wave rolling clouds to rush me
To my resting.

This day,
This day of dark days,
When my final breath is given;
Will call forth such thunder
To shake the very bones of this earth
In it’s grieving.

This day,
This day of dark days,
When the last beat of my heart is felt;
Will cause the Gods themselves
To rent their heaven asunder
In their sorrow.

This day,
This day of dark days,
When the last note of my song is sung;
Will reduce the universe to nought
And slowly dark the stars
At their loss…
On this day,
This day of dark days.

Colours

A post that arrived late at night. I hope you like it.

I’d colour you green,
Such things that I’ve seen,
To cause me to jealously cry;
Such emerald light,
Even seen in the night,
To claim I’m not hurt is a lie.

I’d colour you blue,
For the things that you do,
It sends me to oceans dark deeps;
A sapphire hue,
It hurts through and through,
But the agony’s all mine to keep.

I’d colour you red,
Such anger that’s bled,
From the veins of my horrible heart;
A crimson reply,
To the tears that I cry,
At the fury of time spent apart.

All colours have gone,
Departed so long,
From the world where I spend all my time;
Such black and white days,
Forever hold sway,
But at least these two colours are mine.

Light The Night


A while ago, the wonderfully talented Hastywords suggested we team up for another poem. I really enjoyed writing with her, but she has decided to no longer write in collaboration, so I’m honoured that I managed to write one more time with her. I hope you like this one.

Falling inside raindrops made of glass
Wordless laments land and shatter
On silent sidewalks paying no mind
To the broken edges that they scatter

Unheard cries and oft ignored entreaties
Silence is all that is returned
Screaming out into the heartless void
Knowing all such pleas will be spurned

Landslides full of debris fill lengthy valleys
Without warning and without concern
Shouting headlong a battle cry in defeat
Everything crushed, nothing left to discern

Entombed in rubbled hopelessness so shattered
No longer seeing sunlight’s given hope
How can one so survive such brutal burial?
How can one in such drowning learn to cope?

Courage will grant strength and with that fortitude
To stand against the dark and make a fight
And though all but a spark from me is taken
This spark will burn enough to light the night.

Storm

It’s been a little while, but here’s a new one. Just some random images that coalesced into the following piece. I hope you like it.

Slip the rope from the moorings
Cast off on hollow sea,
A dream of love and
Peaceful days are not
For you and me.

Point the bow at the horizon
Set sail toward the east,
We’ll leave the shore and
Make our way among
The floating freaks.

The waves will test our stomach
Our courage for the fight,
We’ll lose our way and
May not see the coming
Of the light.

Approaching storm on the horizon
The dark and rolling clouds,
Obscure the moon and
Hide the stars beneath
A shadowed shroud.

But once the sea has been becalmed
The winds have dropped away,
We may blessed with
Weather fair and see
A brighter day.

Polly-Anne

This is yet another piece that went on its own path from my mind to the keyboard. Poor, sweet Polly-Anne…what did she do to deserve such a fate?
I have no idea. But please, think of her fondly, and I hope you like my tale of her.

She’s never alone, sweet Polly-Anne,
The voice in her head never leaves;
Accusing and cruel,
With a cast iron rule,
A presence in mind,
That’s not often kind,
It colours the life that she leads.

She dances alone, does Polly-Anne,
To music that only she hears;
The strings of a harp,
That pluck at her heart,
The beat of a drum,
That makes her bones hum,
The voice of the crowd always cheers.

She’s wanted by all, dear Polly-Anne,
But no one will ever get close;
She passes like spring,
Or a bird on the wing,
Not staying too long,
Like summer she’s gone,
But in winter I miss her most.

No longer with us, poor Polly-Anne,
Too gentle for world such as this;
She swallowed her fill,
From one box of pills,
And went to her rest,
No beat in her chest,
I bid her goodbye with a kiss.

Waiting

It seems that sleep depravation and an early start are conducive to creativity. This is another one written first thing this morning, between about 5:30 and 7:00. Hope you like it.

Walk in silence, it’s not that far,
To where you found your joy;
Take solace in the little things,
The tone in which the silence rings,
And where a smile sets love to wing,
You’ll find me waiting there.

Walk in sorrow, it’s near and near,
To where you lost your guilt;
No more to rage against the night,
Nor cry at what may be and might,
But step by step become the light,
You’ll find me waiting there.

Walk forever, or just a day,
However long it takes;
Time will pass the world will turn,
Your mind will grow with things you’ll learn,
The stars will fall and the sky will burn,
But I’ll be waiting there.

These Things I Dream

No explanation for this one. I opened my mind to what would follow “These things I dream…” I hope you like it.

These things I dream…
A room of white in early dawn,
The scent of spring contained,
No sound but that of
Passing breeze,
That calls a sweet refrain…

These things I dream…
A shaded wood from legends tale,
With sunlight piercing gloom,
A river cool flows
Round about,
The cherry trees in bloom…

These things I dream…
The land aflame with fire bright,
A million candles burn,
With single breath
Flames are doused
The world forever turns…

These things I dream…
Unending night and scattered stars,
A universe arrayed,
Where time is lost
Forever chased
And love is not betrayed…

These things I dream…
Perfected beauty in a glance,
A timeless life in view,
If not for dreams
That visit me
I’d never picture you.

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