Rotting Living
________
Poetry dripped out of me
Rotting out of my living corpse
Looked at people on the tram
But no words came outWondered where the one with the floppy hair went,
Didn't know, but I did wonder
But no rhymes came from meWhere must my comfort come forth
If not in words, then how?
If not on paper, then how?Am I rotting in living?
Is glee truly so lonely?Forever Tolerated
________
I'm done reducing myself for you
Gone are the shrinkage days
I'll be damned if I let you walk all over meCall me cold, tell me I ice you out
No longer my problem doll
I'm done doing everything
Without ever being askedAppreciate me, never tolerate
I'll be lonelier, yes
But my, oh my, will I be happier
I'll take loneliness as my friend,
She and I are old allies you seeLecture Loneliness
________
Alone and adrift
Masses of people come and go
Sure, I keep to myself,
But I'd like connectionsStill, I'll be alright
I've endured worse, and now I have a sister
The one person I cannot imagine losing,
The rest I must admit, are expendableMy Little Girl
________
I saw my little girl playing and it brought me to tears
Took the late train home and watched the passengers
We too once believed in fairies and butchered words with laughterLife be damned if I don't hug that little girl
I'll hold her tight and tell her to remember
Sadly I have forgotten what she has to remember,
But she will understand and hopefully she will rememberSo little one, if you read this,
Remember the gnomes with large feet and the green rain,
Never forget through your moulting
When I forget your promise, remind meYou're the first light of the dawn,
Remember the tiger-butterflies and the tree on my phone
Remember being a kid and the happiness it heldI understood more of love then than I do now
And I fear most of us have lost the right definition
So please,
Teach us the meaning,
Just once more, as alwaysSword upon the mantlepiece
________
A girl in my lecture read my aura
Red and green she told me,
I resisted the urge to cry or laughShe'll never know how I breathed red
I wished for fiery hair and for bloodied knuckles
I wanted to fight and run and be free
Dyed my hair bordeaux twice as a signBut then I grew fond of orange
Sweet like the sunset
Alas nationalistic to its coreThen I spotted green
The old trees, meadow grass and morning flower stems
Wishing for peace, that became my colourI never believed in auras
And I must admit that through my skepticism,
Her observation made me smile
I'm still a fighter, but I have found my peace
A sword upon the mantlepiece my forever symbolBoromir's Forgiveness
________
When you confessed you harboured no forgiveness for Boromir,
The beacons were lit high upon the mountains,
The horn of Gondor echoed shrieking from its broken homeEmpathy was foreign and the winds would not bring you there
They would look for Boromir from the White Tower, and it left you coldIf no love was kindled for Boromir the Tall, the Fair, the Bold,
The Son, Brother and Captain of Gondor,
The one who wandered for months in pursuit of a dream
What hope remained for kindness?Did his sacrifices mean nothing?
Can one mistake truly condemn a good man?
When Frodo called him his friend, you dared scoff?The Lord of Gondor who perished with the bravery of a thousand men,
Who lamented his people and wished to see the light of the new day,
The man whom broke his sword, shield and horn before leaving his friends,
To whom the Tower Guard will always northward gazeSo tell me, how can you call yourself a compassionate soul,
Call yourself Aragorn, saying the two of you are alike,
And then refuse compassion to the one slain at Rauros-falls
YOU ARE READING
Saudade
PoetrySaudade /saʊˈdɑːdə/ noun: saudade; plural noun: saudades (especially with reference to songs or poetry) a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia that is supposedly characteristic of the Portuguese or Brazilian temperament A gathering of my po...