a poem called strive

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 16, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 16, 2012





though ludicrous the fortunate

way around the storm may be

the violent mannerism found

inside the calm beneath the

skin behind the eyes along the

quiet spine that swims just like

the candlelight which burns

around midnight when all those

imaginary creatures we’ve come

to fear arise so that the reality

which inevitably will do us in

appears jeopardized like a lone

gunman without bullets like an

archer without arrows like a

slash without flowing blood like

impending death without a

sparrow fluttering pausing on

a fencepost just the beginning of

the darkness just the beginning of

the rain just the beginning of the

lightening just the beginning of the

pain where the corner seems to

have comfort where the shadows

keep in light like the vibrance of

a cat’s eyes keeping clarity through

the rite with sparks of sullen

extravagance with secrets never told

with matches struck to light the

fuse with rivers flowing cold stones

pebbles sticks sand debris vomiting

down the way with predators standing

on the banks nodding gratefully at

their prey with rambles becoming

feats of legend with legends proclaiming

lies with liars becoming emperors with

emperors setting fire to all that could

have come upon a different way to

flee the agony that we all strive for

in the depths of our wildest dreams. 


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