Dear Poetry
I will break again.
outside locked doors
inside the rain;
I am not enough
to stand,
to touch the shattered drop.
I cannot awake.
Morpheus bound me
in his embrace.
I do break.
shards of glass bled
colourless by rain.
I am not enough
to eat my pain,
chew brittle glass
kiss her anger.
I do not get away.
I will die again;
be reborn in blackness
of my darkest cave.
I may awake
alone, in Gaia’s womb
entombed, unknown.
I will not flay my
flesh in words;
fall through myself
to make amends
again.
3 comments:
Hi Klimt
I have read your poetry before and have meaning to visit gain and complement you on such beautiful expressions and thoughts. Please delete your description of yourself as a bad poet. I will be checking back to ensure you do! (just Kidding !)
Did you write ‘The starved rock??” I really liked those created images!. ~ Evocative and insightful
Do we own the land or does the land own us?
Best wishes
yes I wrote starved rock, it is a hauntingly beautiful place.
thanks very much for commenting, I didn't think anyone read this blog - and I've neglected it.
I do reserve the right to call myself a bad poet however... ;-)
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