My wants,
More self-indulgent
Than essential
Be dwindling now,
As I compose
To thus appease,
A mind at times
Neglectfully in need…
I’d worried some
Of human habits
I struggle to let go,
This mortal urge
That one so finds
Bent still akin
To Babbitt kind,
The while hardly
Be sufficient time
To nourish soul,
Now meagrely mine…
Hence hasten I
To now replace
All glitters false,
That I may face,
Lest suffer risk
The quietude I seek,
No matter be
This price one paid
Alas to gain serenity!
That reach,
To help me find
Amity alter time,
Enough to assign
A brutal world
Grow less unkind…
Words I may find,
Could so discern
Amity of a kind,
Would so touch man
To finally be as one,
Hence to bind a lifetime!
If you can reach
Beyond reality,
To thus so dream
With cerebral acuity,
You may transcend
Wonted portend,
In out of person
Sleep nocturnal,
If operose plight
Leaves you contrite,
In nightmares lined
With shades of night,
And issue begs
Be rid of fretful sights,
You might extol
Such dreams
Held ever bold,
Be screened
From light of day,
And duly purged
From nightly dreams,
Whose phantasmagoric lean
Meant be our night’s delight!
ode to Edgar Allan Poe
Words swirl round
A restive head,
Like leaves scatter
On autumn winds,
As reach I in vain
To save words thin
From ensuing rain,
As I awake to tears
Lo threaten blur
Words I propose,
Thought cogent prose…
Hence agonize
To give words life,
Probing to shape
Morphologically,
As in a duel of fate
Each dubious choice,
Be cause poem unfolds…
Whilst I persist
To disgorge such,
The like express
Words nobly knit,
Tho they oft trap
Rather than flow,
Or eke in anguish
Desperate whispers,
Of an aspiring poet!
Poetry on a canapé 