Weekend

Not sure about this one… The images flowed for me, but I think it’s a bit confusing. Still, publication without editing isn’t a bad thing… Hope you like it.

Remains of the day
That were shattered and
Scattered,
Collected by hands of
The scarred and the
Old.

Crying at failure
And shouting for
Penitence,
Seeking the meaning in
Stories so
Bold.

Blessed by a stranger
Who was wicked and
Clever,
Discussing the future
And what would be
Known.

Asking forgiveness
From eyes judging and
Jealous,
The hope of redemption
Not easily
Shown.

Days spent in leisure
With the dark and
Unholy,
Debasing the body
With pleasure and
Pain.

The weekend begins
With the promise of
Stardom,
The hot gathered masses
To all scream your
Name.

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6 Responses to Weekend

  1. I love this! Apart from flowing like a dream it screams emotions of so many kinds, each of them like a pent up week ready to explode. Thank f*** for the weekends. And holidays! You might have had something else in mind. But it shouts freedom to me. Brilliant read. It’s set me up for mine. Thank you. 🙂

    • Simon says:

      Everyone will take their own interpretation from it, but I’m glad you didn’t find it overly confused or all over the place… Thank you.

  2. Not at all. I think we’ve said before that that’s one of the beauties of poetry. The reader takes from it what s/he sees or needs at any given time. And the writer gets to wonder how on earth they saw what they did. 😉

  3. fibee5 says:

    Have you considered remnants of day as first line? I tripped whilst reading that opening but then as usual I enjoyed delving into your creativity.

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