Poetry Collection.

"Raving Discussions with the Rambling Universe."

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I have never known such sorrow from the depths of such a youthful
soul. And could it be the cowardice of my mind,
the arrogance of my heart, to plead
and wonder about mine? Do I speak in stuttered tongue,
hear with gravel in my ears? Do I lie
just as easily as I breathe?

I fear, above all, that the absence of breath
is not release. Too soon are the youth
stolen from their beds, unbeknownst to the lying
monsters betwixt the knobby wood. Oh, and mind
the cracks in the floor, the slip of the tongue
betraying their pleas.

Confusion, it be, to succumb to their pleading,
wallowing and wary in stinted breath,
rumbles and roars rolling from their tongues.
I don't pretend to miss the timid youth
where the shadows crept louder than the mind.
Have I become a cliché? Would it be banal to call this a lie?

Do I know of lying,
elegiac prose? Do I make sense? Do I plead
to the mercy of the universe idly? Would you mind
to silence for a time, to capitulate to such fading breath
of mine? Is it wasted time to mourn the youth,
empty words to think in tongues?

You failed to mention the broken record, to remember that my tongue
only repeats what it remembers. I would say that I am a lie,
but it has already been said before. And so I've wondered, throughout my youth
and past my prime, against all pleading
notions, am I meager? Do I toe the line of baited breath,
do I conform to death and wooden mind?

Against my better judgement, I hope you do not mind
the sound logic of my fallacious tongue.
And, oh. Who am I kidding? Of course not. How dare you breathe
in false air? Am I too caprice? Have you forgotten that I am a liar?
Ha! Do you believe me now? And so humorous it is to watch you plead,
to watch you fall to your knees and beg for your youth.

And such a loss, such a waste was the pitiful youth, of which obsession your mind
fixates, of which sorrow your conscious pleads. Do you even know of what you think? Is your tongue
tied? I think you know, I think you know that your guilt is a lie, that you lie in wait for the baited, dying breath.

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(December 12th, 2023.)

Another sestina. :)