turmoil deposits

On 20261029 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

the electron won't admit 
it only went where the current took it 
examining the evidence 
through a lens of morality 
and a microscope of backdraft wisdom 

as the sand on this beach 
so we ended up here 
(wherever "here" is) 
the illusion of choice being 
the last and strongest superstition

it isn't your fault 
and it isn't mine, it's just that 
trying to prevent recurring traumas 
in our children by 
inflicting new ones continues to fail 

knowing cannot replace feeling 
remembering cannot replace doing 
and the young are more rafts than motorboats 
more kites than airplanes 
and more to be pitied then censored

Who Else’s Voice?

On 20261026 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

Were you to speak and spill your heart 
Onto the waters of regret 
The scorn might come in swarms and hordes 
And nightmares not imagined, yet 

We of the world can heartless be 
But know as sure as life, or breath, 
That only one can have your voice 
And stilling it 

Is worse

Than death

4 Lines Before Bed

On 20260707 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

To tell you the truth I often lie 
And I am not sure quite sure why 
For though I stretch with what I say 
It’s not impressive anyway

Grateful Interaction

On 20260618 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

In grateful interaction 
The scorn we flirt with ends, 
The fear we have of strangers
Turns into love of friends. 

And it can be surprising 
To suddenly be seen 
Outside the walls we hide behind 
While looking through 

A screen

the focus of attention

On 20260613 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

you were my ardent only, 
my every half-formed thought, 
and though you were my everything, 
you weren't quite what i sought 

and so i turned attention 
to what was new, and young, 
and gave to all the friends i found 
myself daily among 

but some may love for money, 
and others love for looks, 
but me, i loved for nothing 
and now i'm left with books 

i bought when i was younger, 
and you were still my stay; 
the focus of a wasted man 
who threw it all

away

“I Am The One Who Was…”

On 20260514 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems1 Comment

A morning gray, a two-day rain, 
A mind wrapped up in here and now, 
A half-day passed, a needed a break, 
Surprised to find the world now blue 
And full of early flowers in bloom 
His car took him (it seemed) down to 
A place of stones, and flowers, and rest 
And words and dates and silences -- 
  A hand upon my shoulder now 
  With no one there, with no one there.

"I Am The One Who Was" it said, 
Or they all said, in different words; 
A living presence grown and gone 
Now missing in the hearts of those 
Who once took shape and came alive 
In feeling skin and hearing voice 
In ways no others ever could 
For what is known and felt is kept 
  Inside the vault we can't unlock 
  For someone took the key and left, 
  For someone took the key

  and left

For Those Who’d Be Unlovable…

On 20260417 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

Reach out and feel what should be yours by right; 
The cadence of a song that none have heard, 
The measure of a breath that's full and light 
Along a shore: a lonely boat, a bird --  

And how you came to be where you are not: 
The fuller you become a passing ghost 
That all have seen and equal all, forgot, 
A missing sign atop a broken post -- 

But you remember hope -- it was your claim 
When everything you didn't know still glowed, 
And so much seemed in reach, both love and fame, 
While paying back much more than ever owed --  

  Our slipping grasp on all that missing peace, 
  Midst waves that ever lessen, never cease

all my songs have colors

On 20260410 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

when the outworld was my home 
i knew the smell of evenings 
spent by lakes still wild and 
full of unmapped feelings yet 
but soon to be known by one 
intrepid scurillous adventurous 
made of heart and granite and 
powered more by sugar than 
forethought or any other kind 
of blue-green wonder or sped-up 
thoughts of what a drive-in 
movie must look like when one 
is there to be with someone who 
wants only to be there with you 
who read these lines and know 
the red and gray awaits and 
eventually your pillow becomes 
your prison

now right

On 2026040720260407 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

we cannot
rest in silence while
fleeing it

No Talent for Certainty

Tag: Poetry

turmoil deposits

Like this:

Who Else’s Voice?

Like this:

4 Lines Before Bed

Like this:

Grateful Interaction

Like this:

the focus of attention

Like this:

“I Am The One Who Was…”

Like this:

For Those Who’d Be Unlovable…

Like this:

all my songs have colors

Like this:

now right

Like this:

To share is human:

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To share is human:

Like this:

To share is human:

Like this:

To share is human:

Like this:

To share is human:

Like this:

To share is human:

Like this:

To share is human:

Like this:

To share is human:

Like this:

To share is human:

Like this: