Hertogeneity

Photo by Rodolfo Quiru00f3s on Pexels.com

I may have been the next Holden Caulfield

But life intervened in a charitable fashion

That’s not to say that I hadn’t been affected

By things I experienced, witnessed, or lived

Clearly, I’d be one of the first to fully admit

People let you down, though it’s uncertain

If each time it was intentionally motivated

I error on the side of caution, to believe not

If I am truly the product of my environment

Who is it by name, to fault, to seek recompense?

What would any of that gain me now, so late;

A dying flower will still wilt away, will it not?

Rather than become an imaginary inky character

I became the outcome of myself… in real life

Luminous

Just off a summit point path

It was a view overlooking water

As well all the lower elevations

Just a lone bench tucked under

An umbrella shade of an oak tree

I’d often visit, even at twilight

Amidst cosmological tranquility

Staring at the stars in heaven

Improvised scenes on a fogy fabric

That had never realized the fruition

All poets are but great dreamers

They paint elegance from their heart

As they try to live it ever so briefly

Before it slips back into… invisibility

Nakedness

I hung my head expecting to be shamed

After I chose to be brave exposing myself

In fashion unfamiliar to my outside world

Most of whom knew me not at all really

Nonetheless, I reveled in mere plain words

What I couldn’t dare utter out of my voice

I must admit, it seemed to be so much safer

Whereas I might explain it: a misunderstanding

Had been submitted by complete human error

A page of pure fiction instead of anecdotalized

Or so my inner thought reasoned out cowardly

Plus, it felt easier to be jousted over silly fiction

Then admit my truer inner emotions publicly

If they discerned what I wrote was… gibberish

An ode to Virginia’s love letter.

Waywardness

I’ve traveled so far, so long

Amongst palisades of darkness

Left unseen by my blindness

My boots muddied and rent

Too heavy until discarded

Freshness became unveiled

Now- it is here- before me

A pathway for my bare feet

My footprints fit it perfect

Each step lighter than the last

The forest became enchanting

Warmth of the risen sun radiates

Whispers of breezes on my face

I’m safe- in my way…to home

Crucible

I’ve fallen between the lines

Portraying the idiot at times

When the mood strikes me to

Fitting the character’s profile

By some unseeingly observer

Having age-old bones to pick

That’s been gnawing resolve

A type of pit in a man’s soul

That never becomes satisfied

But will attempt to placate it

The way drugs alter a mind

Often at the expense of others

And the idiot is no idiot when

He outmaneuvers…a narcissist

Stab in the dark

There seem to be a million things

I’d like to write about, colorfully convey

But it becomes a bit like a briar bush

Around some swampy water hole

It’s alluring at first until you’re drawn to it

Retreat seems obvious but pride takes over

And the deeper and darker it all looks

As each new line is like a brave new step

The problem is, you’re not sure as to where

Then suddenly, you’re all tangled up

Sense of direction gets all muddled

Feeling a bit unsettled and secretly lost

You know where you want to go

Things you’d like to honestly say

Doubt holds you back like hundreds of thorns

That just thicker and more uncertain

As to how to move forward cleanly

Sometimes the safest way is foolishness

But the truth is, writing requires bleeding

Act like a martyr and blaze forth

Trusting it will all make sense in the end

If not to others, it will to yourself

That’s all that… should matter

Instillment

I made a series of mistakes

Albeit they did seem correct

In those once lived moments

When I believed everything

That I thought I knew before

But learned it was all wrong

Nothing is more humiliating

Then to come- face to face

With your own flawed self

Knowing a reflection is truer

Then the version of you quiet

In disbelief and amazement

While it is most bittersweet

It’s proof of your…maturity

Associations

We’ll too often undervalue people

Overlooking missed opportunities

How easily we live out ignorance

When convenience serves a purpose

And our personal bliss is quotidian

Choosing to know others generally

But not truly know them intimately

Finding them an inadequate interest

Beyond a pale of just being different

What value is our knowledge then?

Who’s truth serves us any betterment?

Abdicating respectful responsibility

Setting named goats free to meander

We’d be surprised to learn anything

Having never met our truer… selves

Learnt

I’ve known dark doubt

I’ve known deep hurt

And when they’ve collided

In the depths of my heart

To echo in hollows of my mind

Where mocking images live forever

Most often as love goes awry

Or when promises implied

Fails to sustain what’s inferred

When only a fool’s uniform

Wears on me but all too well

When I’m left alone in unfamiliar greys

To read between all the blurs

Of you actions verses…your words

Propounding

Great writers pay a tragic price

For relatable words, they’ll utter

Transcendental storms of truths

Come full circle every other decade

Beset in priori and posterior battles

Where the writer clings to what was

As life drags them along to what is

Broken, scarred but still ever faithful

To their heart, bleeding or otherwise

Their tormented mind cries silently

Only their soul keeps them together

Time passes: they eventually recover

Being one of life’s humanistic muses

To express renewed tragical…truths

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: