
Image From Wallpapers.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
From my books Bohemian Scents and Riverthink
Image From Wallpapers.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
From my books Bohemian Scents and Riverthink
“Inner Strength” by Sharon Cummings
I never feared men
a machismo thing born on
unkind city streets
but age and infirmity
shrivels all vanity
(originally posted January 2014)
“Self-Loathing” by Ponsonby Britt
man at his center
so vulnerable
not one belly bone
guards his mortality
soft tissue perils abound
all the organs of
ethical impulses
faced with a danger
that even the
inchoate fetus
can well comprehend
countless predators
wanting to feast
upon private interiors
stealing the essence
of principled men
to add into their own
so much easier is it
to eat of good flesh
than to do the slow work
of creating it
day after night
after unswerving day
how ironic the faith
of despicable minds
in romantic conceits
that morality has a
corporeal substance
how tragic the faith
of despicable minds
that a killing of virtue
can somehow redeem
self-contempt
“Coal Miner’s Canary” by Charles Marchant Stevenson
employing
its vulnerability
coalmine canary
“Computers and Wires” by Tommy Midyette
had a poem in my hand
the hard work of days spent
in anguishing plea to my muse
till an insolent internet wind
came and carried it off
in some strange fit of pique
as if I had plagiarized
cognitive wavelengths
belonging to microchip brains
uneasy this modern alliance
of mind and machine
in creation of literate art
there are mutual jealousies
born of a mutual ignorance
partners beset by mistrust
the strange bedfellows story
brought home in this age
of prosthetic intelligence
I and my laptop depend
on each other and in that
a host of new vulnerabilities
neurons and diodes at best
may collaborate cautiously
smiles and nods for the crowd
Image from pinterest.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
slipped on the stairs
time has built
between years
headlong into the fear
fear of falling
of breaking
not dying
no powers of healing
are left to dead bones
fear of falling
of breaking
not dying
no room for new pain
mind and body and soul
already afflicted
by agonies
uncertain endings
attach to each
mortally hesitant step
loss of confidence
vulnerability
raw and acute
fear of falling
of breaking
not dying
faith never more
weak and defenseless
prayer can’t find
its moment
its place
among moments
already unbearable
ceaselessly mute
fear of falling
of breaking
not dying
the deep well of tears
long since empty
flash floods of fear
gorge through channels
that courage first cut
sprung from confident brawn
in rough rivers of city concrete
but the brawn is now wasted
and courage has no route to run
save discretion’s retreat
threats and dangers abandoned
for forest and flowers
and safe flowing streams
among creatures and neighbors
less fraught with ill-motive
but not so completely
to let down my guard
my skilled marksman defenses
or ironwood staff
when I’m out and about
͠͠͠͠͠
truth be told
I don’t get so much out and about
but I hate to admit it
conceding my weaknesses
pisses me off to no end
yet I know of great warriors
toppled by blind self-delusion
so if I go down
whosoever whatever is standing
will know
they’ve just had
the hardest fought fight
of their fortunate life
but for now
I’m at peace
with all fears left behind
in those perilous waters
where courage stands ground
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...