Finally, the darkness welcomes the soul. A second in time becomes an ear of dissent. A breath taken becomes laboured and intense. Finally, the landlord collects the rent.
We arrived at what we were to become without indications of any other tomorrow Shouting screams of regrets bitter buried in the underground echoes of sorrow
For each day became a year, and more For each year became a destination Stop signs littered the path of enlightenment until all we had left was our frustration
We meandered here, and there, and back creating spaces we could claim as reality And all the while the drums would beat the tortured embraces of bitter finality
Would one ever evolve into a majority or would the shattered symbols still survive? Could this be the place we rushed to in our stupid attempts to finally arrive?
I stop, take a glance, see only nothing It is the trip that was the destination I know now the shape of torn embraces which caressed, but did not function.
Goodbye old shadows of past lights which glittered always for another day I am here, here where I have been going aware, but still seeking another way
I like the story and the desire of this poem. Hard to find the path we need to be on. I did like the ending. Always more questions with few answers. Thank you for a excellent poem.
Coyote
The words and structure is beautiful, I love the vocabulary. But truthfully, I found it hard to get. Maybe I'm just not in a critical reading mode right now, but it took me two or three read throughs to catch what the poem was saying. That displays a disconnect between writer and reader, and that's never good. It doesn't speak to me at all.
Except the fourth stanza I really loved. I flowed seamlessly and felt like a vision. Wonderfully thought-provoking. :)
The last stanza couldn't have been a more perfect end to this work. Your work always gives me some comfort and clarity and this is no exception. Please don't ever stop writing
They say that you only really begin to understand what life's about when you have only a little of it left .... but you say it so much more eloquently.
Over 200 of my poems have appeared in more than one hundred journals in the U.S. and Canada, in Japan and Australia, and the U.K.
I have had a series of chapbooks published in the 1980's by 4 Wi.. more..