Days in the life of a poet

When life gets too complicated and our hearts and minds seek out what is good and provides us sustenance...poetry is the breath of life. Words allow us to communicate...to express that within us that is most precious and real. We crave that which is familiar and gives us comfort...read and receive*

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Effect(ed) of Lonely

Sometimes…the longing mind rummages
…can leave one physically spent
caught in a cyclone’s eye of
revolving door, sedimentary gestation
Asking internal questions of
…what the hell(s) and ifs…
…and all the maybes
Light diminishing…
ruminating in doubt

Stoic heart beat lacking emotive breath
can’t speak…still looking for that cat
Alone in cathartic, depressive stage-plays
spouting sane-less, expressioned quotations
while counting carpet stains of neapolitan

Sit solitary as if involuntarily incarcerated
too afraid to swim the span of untested waters
…afraid of heart-rushes to failures…again
The disappointments of being discontinued
…even if love may be anointed in spirit
…the unrequited returns…shattering
…exacerbating the illusions
…leaving tears…invested in shame

It hurts and, it burns…
Where are the echoed answers?
…as the storm continues to expand*


Jon` B. Crenshaw
© 2011 - All Rights Reserved

 

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