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        

.    

Poet of the Light © 2022

Accentuation

Photo by Monica Turlui on Pexels.com

It was a Saturday evening

Cooler summer breeze blew

Clouds intervened the sun

You wore a new gold dress

And in one glace- stole me

I was in the near shadows 

Beneath cottonwood trees

You were across the street     

Your smile and the laughter

Overwhelmed my heartbeats     

Oblivious to my surrounds

I crossed without- looking     

Horns honked; people balked

All that mattered… was you

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Substance

Photo by David Cassolato on Pexels.com

I know not of such greatness

Of writing like others praised

Or those known great speakers

So many of the learned bestow

I’m of but meek talent and heart

Oft conveying my mission work

Relating what I do comprehend

From an observing kind of mind

Of keen eyes for subject matter

Even if it matters not to others    

I toil in multi-states of existence

The way a painter does a canvas

Striving for unattainable perfect

By an imperfect subject… accepted

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Be causal

Photo by Winson Mathew on Pexels.com

Maturity- is not time fixed

But my ego never knew this

Required changes took place

Cause I once needed to be seen

Or needed to be heard aloud

Craved to be believed or loved

I’ve reached my summit- of self

Humbled by silence observantly  

Where I then understood greater

All that I was not– ignorantly       

Realizing my home was the valley

Where lush lives live by necessity  

Where I’ve become in authenticity

To thrive in my own… genuineness

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Droughts

Photo by Julia Volk on Pexels.com

I returned to our beach

And the sun broke early

I sat, recalling you, and us

I found an abandoned pail

I began making sandcastles

And I was trying to recapture

Life in motion from memories

But I was having little luck

They crumbled over an over

How I empathized with them

Struggling to remain strong

To at least appear- alright

The lake water had dried up  

All I had left fell… from my eyes

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Pride, prejudice, and pettiness

Photo by Michael Burrows on Pexels.com

The only real passion you held

Was your own self-admiration

Seeing success in materialism

Gaines off other’s misfortunes 

You despised anyone- different  

Who offered commoners help  

Or gave away valuable advise

Entirely secured in themselves    

It made you colder and cunning

Relationships were but punitive

Praise was your drug of choice

You loved the taste of revenge   

Yet, you go to bed humiliated

Incapable of being …charitable

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Simulationship

My life has never been perfect

And I’ve reconciled to that fact

I’m not sure I’d know perfection

If it stood before me personally

At least in context often misused

I’ve known a gauntlet of darkness

Well enough I could trek it blind

As I do in my reality- instinctively           

Weaving across constructs of life

In and out of greys and shadows           

Or relationships ups and downs

More so when friends become foes    

My best comes- when familyships

Treat me more like…a human stain

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Cogency

I seem to be living in a time

Doubt rises with the dawn

Long before I open my eyes

I got a whole lot going on

Winds of change circle me

Like a cloud of confusion

Nothing is gained or freed

I’m left with no one to talk to

Lord knows- this ain’t easy

But I wish it could be with you      

Knowing you were listening

Made all the difference for me  

When I felt like I was being heard

And my words mattered… too

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Black ice

Photo by Gabriel Peter on Pexels.com

Betrayal is an accessibility door

To the core of my vulnerability

The headquarters of all that I am

Where I deduce my truest realities

Where I’m secure in a certainness

My secrets, my fears, my weakness

My trust is nurtured and matured  

A conscious place I may retreat to

From the world at large or at times

When my realm has become ugly

Or that ugliness is now my chaos  

When trust is unexpectedly broken

When my love for another is marred

By a friend proven to be …a stranger

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Tabula rasa

Photo by Valiphotos on Pexels.com

In some respects: “The path not taken”

May well have been the very right one

But for all the wrong reasons unknown

Our diverging moments never do return

However, their wise lessons taught, will

Right and wrong will forever serve us

In predication for our pending futures

I’ve taken many preverbal right roads

Discovering it wasn’t where I belonged       

Whilst a few notorious- wrong roads     

Were more comfortable for my palate

Coziness can retard one’s inner growth     

Just as unjust punishment prevents love

Diverge your past- then… embark again

.

Poet of the Light © 2022