I watch from the lighthouse lookout, waiting for the end of the eclipse
Having spent weeks tackling waves, months climbing the cliff of survival
Grey skies every morning, cold cabins and creaking floors to escape the apocalypse
Hesitating in the woods of denial, dashing across sand, dangling my feet over the edge of revival.
Discarded plastic masking fears of passing time fog up the unending blue
All around echo the cheers of the lost morphing with the cries of the free
My eyes sting seeing what the heart believes to be wrong yet equally true
And all that matters of the past is what it moves or manipulates in me.
Find me balancing on the ledge, documenting the satire calamity
Footsteps transcending through time, back when I was unsure by the caves
Hovering uncertainty before the perfect rhyme presents itself in serenity
Black and white headlines disintegrating into the bleeding waves.
See how the silent chaos gives way to infectious laughter of peace
After the raging storm comes the ease of tidal wave release.
LD x ~ 12/12/20
YOU ARE READING
Loudspeaker
Poetry'... are my words enough?' Many themes and issues run through this collection, interwoven with each other, knitted between poems, so much so this is less of a collections of poems more of a continuous narrative. When I write, I'm constantly inspired...
