Im gonna try to start posting random poems Ive written over the years---love them, hate them, eviscerate them, but read them :) I am not clever, am not kind; I do not sit and question whither Empty the floods of wasted life, or time. Perhaps the years shall turn me bitter, Force my aging mind to dither Upon answers which no moment asked. No, not with hardship nor with hope Has my prideful soul been tasked; Not with suffering nor the vagaries That sun-stroked vagabonds each face And hope with hopefulness to cope. No, the sorrows of my heart displace Those comic youthful tragedies That arouse the soul and dare to please The restlessness of reckless hearts. No, upon grand journeys to the East My trepid spirit has failed depart: To gaze upon pale Memnon buried deep Beneath the ceaseless Saharan sands, Or seek out distant, fabled lands And in some epic by blind-men penned To record my victories and to keep therein The wondrous works of youthful thought. No, I have permitted my hours each be bought For but a trifle, a nothing, a promise broken— All the wrongs I have dared to sin Have visited me in the night and spoken: ‘You! Yes, you! What wretched waste!’
Posted on: Sun, 10 Aug 2014 22:06:29 +0000