Pondering

I didn't work on a title because this is simply a structured pondering. It's not very deep or abstract or technical but I don't feel it needs to be.

I sat out in the cold, my sanity slowly losing hold as I thought about the world.
Pondering, I sat, merely wondering as the smoke from my cigarette swirled
around my hands. Spirals looping, twisting strands from my fingers to the clouds;
clouds of pinkish tincture sitting above me as midnight came around.
Once again I comprehended that my freezing lips and rugged filters
were looking out for constellations and genius who devised and built her.

My eyes grew weary and my heart, my poor heart continued swelling
and the sprightly stars were all aligning, gathering and spelling
out the name of a girl whose name I won’t mention out of fairness.
But be certain that her grace, her talent and her beauty was the rarest
combination of these things I’d ever been in the presence of before.
Dreams before had passed; many a deluded trance in which her body I’d explored.

 

Flexing fingers tapping, my intuition matting as the ash fell to the ground.
They focused only on my memories whilst looking the earth spinning around.
All too clearly it domes over, and suddenly I discover what it’s like to be in love;
missing my maiden lover, while my only company comes in the solemn stars above.
The yellow flower just adjacent was moving so complacent with the breeze.
I watched it contemplating, painfully debating how I could possibly find reprieve.

My surmising was disrupted, rudely interrupted by the ringing of my phone.
Longing for connection, a soul to save me from the infection of being alone
but all my senses stopped me from answering, my brain screaming to ignore.
It was now so clear that my body wasn’t in touch with my conscience anymore.
Truthfully I conceived it, whole heartedly believed it to be evasion of dismay
if it was the proclamations, the angelic intonation of the girl I cannot name.

 

So secluded still I pondered, still stupidly I wandered to the boundaries of a muse.
Thoughts and whisking whispers, longing just to kiss her in my branular broken blues.

Reviews

[Brandon Mathis]

You poured your heart out in this i like that a lot good job man

[TheJordBaker]

thanks again

[Brandon Mathis]

no problem

[afra]

so sweet ....such a beautiful poem ...well done

[TheJordBaker]

thanks :)