The winter highway calls me home…

On 2021021020210210 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems1 Comment

[Originally published 12-17-2015]

The winter highway calls me home
To where my love lies sleeping;
For I have carried secrets long,
Far past their time for keeping

The many roads I've driven on
Are fading, as the light
Comes timid with the nascent dawn;
I see an end to night

How many habits must I break?
How many lies be spoken?
The time is now for me to take
And fix all that I've broken

The winter highway calls me home
To where my love lies sleeping;
For I have carried secrets long,
Far past their time for keeping

three blue candles

On 2019123020191230 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems4 Comments

three blue candles in a row
where she knew she shouldn’t go
in a room of closed desire
smoke now circles ever higher

lying thoughtlessly has crept
promises have not been kept
but she does not care somehow
in the feeling she has now

for the burning justifies
broken vows and sequent lies
as she bobs her pliant head
three blue candles by the bed

The Sun Sets on the Standing Stones

On 2019123020191230 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems5 Comments

The sun sets on the standing stones.
The clouds, the moon, the stars still move in track.
The widsom that I seek seems out of reach,
And questioners and doubters, still catch flack

Especially from those who pose as questioners.
These hunt down searchers with great indignation:
Returning then to palaces of folly
In orgasms of self-congratulation

About what was…

On 2019122320200804 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems1 Comment

Flawed —
That’s a word we use when we’ve carelessly destroyed things.
We empty our emotional shelves, and
Clean out the closet of our memories,
But carefully retain our excuses, because
Those are the ultimate image filter.

And one more time, it’s about what was:
And the next what-is that’s about to become what-was —

But that’s what happens when you’re “flawed”:
You strip the beds down,
You strip the house down,
But you sure as hell
Aren’t stripping yourself down

colored over

On 2019090720190907 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems3 Comments

pretend again for me
pretend again for you
it didn’t need to end
the false can still be true

the days before the the lies were known
they form a sort of schism;
we’re trapped within the colored bars
that constitute
our prism

[it’s all pretend… owen]

A Verity

On 2019080120190801 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

I promised her the hills and sky,

I promised her all this —

But one small word of truth means more

Than worlds of

Hollowness

Immured

On 2019032220190321 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

Now, seeming self-assured

We disappear, immured;

‘Mid walls that hold the toxins from

Which we cannot be cured

A world kept under wraps:

Each hidden lie and lapse —

For much we think we want, we dont,

And castles can

Be traps

Sic Transit Gloria Nihil

On 2018101320181012 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

(or “Old Poem, Written Age 18”)

We live in a world full of false attribution,
Where people smear filth and then call it ablution;
Where lies are the most common type of pollution,
And all that gets over are cheaters and cons —

We breathe in the air of congenital aping,
Our souls full of holes that are growing and gaping
While no word of truth from our lips is escaping,
Misleading our brothers and sisters, our pawns —

We die in this place of eternal damnation
Without ever knowing we’re needing salvation;
And wait till the last to feel our consternation,
And only then claiming our crimes to forswear —

We’re buried with all that is totally rotten,
And sooner than later, we’re all but forgotten,
And wrapped in our silks or our nylon or cotton
We still try to speak, but we don’t have a prayer

No Talent For Certainty

Tag: Lies

The winter highway calls me home…

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three blue candles

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The Sun Sets on the Standing Stones

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About what was…

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colored over

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A Verity

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Immured

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Sic Transit Gloria Nihil

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To share is human:

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To share is human:

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To share is human:

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To share is human:

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To share is human:

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To share is human:

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To share is human:

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To share is human:

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To share is human:

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