Poetic Epilepsy

So kneeling there unseen amid the dark
In prayer not, nor supplication made
He back-sore, rather, hears the morning still
And knows for too long too much he has weighed

As words pour in like water from a jar
To mix with chemicals of imagery
The short attention span of modern life
And long-attenuated apathy

For no one thinks in sonnets any less
And no one speaks in riddles but the blank
The space filled in with all not written down
By some old-caste poetic mountebank

And everyone will gather there to cheer
To seek the vanished truth, the last frontier

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “Poetic Epilepsy”

Leave a Reply to lifecameos Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s