Entrenched

acceptance, art, creative writing, depression, emotions, excerpts, Fiction, heartache, heartstrings, literature, loneliness, love, poetry, poets, self-reflection, sensual, Uncategorized 1 Minute

 

Perhaps after a blink of an eye

In a draft of its passing breeze

Akin, an out of body thing

Causing chills and goosebumps

During small conversations

There- are at certain moments

Separation of I- and my divinity

Where even my own soul feels

Tattered, looking disheveled

A lost age old traveler bewildered

Dressed in a dirty rent covering

As I’m feeling far removed

My life, myself and all reality

As if I’ve become a renegade

From everything else that is- me

After peregrinating time barefooted

Down worn out paths, I created

And thirst and hunger are in battle

To try and selflessly save one another

Through once lush green meadows

Traipsing over snow covered poppy fields

Sliding on frozen mirrored lakes

Crawls, hungover across deserted lands

Undernourished, somewhat vacant

Sleeping in a tree limb to feel hugged

So that my courage doesn’t run amuck

As I clutch granules of belief, somewhere…I’m love

Poet of the Light © 2019 

Published by Poet of the Light

email me if you wish. poetofthelight5@gmail.com If you chose to attack me, I reserve the right to presume you don't exist and unworthy of a retort, or I may just write you and your ignorance out of my mind. ;-) Truth be told~ I’ve no idea what kind of writer or poet I am, how good or how bad really. In this day and age it seems, we sometimes get likes (feel obligated) because we liked someone work/art or message. I’m not keen to that concept, albeit I understand others might be trying to be supportive- within that gray area so as not to seem critical, to someone they perceive as a lessor learner. I tend to write from past experiences, (not all my own) and some are even new drafts of old versions of writes from a more modern view/voice or understanding. I enjoy being a tad provocative in the sense of stirring up ones emotions. I oft dismiss the mechanics because they tend to hinder realities honest and authentic voices conveying a truth, even if but their own. Reminding others in my message what having a loss feels like, traversing as a frail vessel adrift at on a sea of bitterness- alone or a new love acquired, and usually from a childish perspective. All writers have goals and many have entrenched agenda’s but for me, I have the need to write. Everything I write comes from my heart. I share them here, amongst those who might relate, might appreciate what is my style, my tone, my tragedy, my perspective, my naked vulnerability as whispers- from the scars on my heart. I like to think of myself as a high-wire balancing ambivert that can slip one way or another on the stretched tether of my heart whereas poetry serves as my balancing rod. Thank you for reading and your visit. Perhaps we will dance like love birds, to the same intertwining music as we delve in cryptic words on inked pages during our life's…song?

Published

18 thoughts on “Entrenched”

      9. No, it’s done through WordPress. If you’re on your phone, go to WordPress.com through your internet browser. Click the “W” logo button on the top left, click “site” click “comments” on the top it will say “all.” Choose that option and click “spam.”

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