Just the title.
Good morning, all. It doesn’t make sense. Never makes sense. Can you make it make sense? Probably not. I guess we’ll see. Enjoy the poem today, friends. It’s a short one.
What is perfect is not flawless.
No, it is not contradictory.
Me?
A hypocrite?
A liar?
Never the man you think I am.
Never the man I think I am.
What is perfect is not flawless.
Made in the image of Gods.
How could you be imperfect?
Even the Gods were not flawless,
no matter how perfect.
Evening, everyone! Apologies for the late post today. Had a busy one the past couple days. I’ve got something I think most of you should relate to, especially those moms in the audience *wink*. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the poem, mon amis. Sleep well tonight, and feast in the halls of giants!
So tired
can hardly lift my eyelids,
and yet,
there I am at the top of the mountain,
screaming out my lungs.
I have so much energy,
and yet,
I am so tired,
just so god damned tired.
I don’t hurt.
Not like before.
I ache.
A dull, lasting, resounding ache
that reverberates through my bones.
Oh, how it all feels so…
wrong.
It has been a good day today,
and yet,
I am exhausted.
Down there in my core
nothing awaits the rising or the setting of the sun,
no thing at all.
Not a whole lot to say today, friends. I hope you have a wonderful mother’s day! Please enjoy the poem !
That’s what gives you hope?
The stinging, ringing feeling
of some unknown isotope.
Always leaves you reeling.
A good man, you say.
Do you know what that means?
Those words…
How deep they cut.
I hope one day
for a cushion
instead of a knife.
I hope to lie in peace,
perhaps,
rather than on a bed of nails.
Always poised
as if to be struck.
Now what kind of life
does this one make?
What kind of life
does this one take?
Broken and unbroken…
I don’t know how the pieces go together.
Good afternoon, friends. I’m always dreaming of the sun. I’m often dreaming of love and the future and what might be. Join me for a moment. Enjoy the poem today. I think you’ll like it. PS: I was just published in the first issue of Mind Swimmer! Go check out Julia’s website at https://smarellijulia.wixsite.com/mindswimmer!
Is that what you want?
A love story?
You want to find yourself on a pier, set against the waves, awash under the light of the moon?
You want to lose yourself in those storied, starry eyes reflecting all your stories back at you?
Maybe one day.
Maybe one day you’ll sit there on the porch,
rocking back and forth
while the kids play inside
and the afternoon sun rolls over your tired old skin.
One day,
maybe,
it’ll all make sense
and you’ll wonder why
you ever worried at all.
One day
you’ll find your little love story.
Are you alone in the dark? You can’t see, but you can hear, you can smell, you can feel. There’s something in there with you, waiting. Is it watching? Is it there for you? It might be… Maybe one day you’ll find out. Enjoy the poem, everybody! And don’t forget to check out the bottom of my home page where I have places you can donate to help support my work. Thanks everybody for reading!
There abounds a sweet suffering,
tasting of milk and honey,
of maple and lilac.
Swimming through the syrup,
sticking to the sides,
knowing not what awaits
come march’s ides.
Sinking down into the sap,
right there down through the gap.
There abounds the dark abyss,
cold and black and viscous.
That feeling so stark.
How it feels
to be in the dark.
Can you hear the song of the lark?
Can you hear the song in the dark?
Poems by Sam