#565
Oh and where might i cast my eyes?
When the headlines are rife with horror,
when the paragraphs bloat with lies,
when hypnotists twist our airwaves,
and our poisoned screens glimmer and call,
when one’s gaze offends,
oh, where but up,
up to the heavens, the stars, the clouds,
over the shoulder is a past
of riddled nostalgic distractions,
never to return, no,
take me forwards, make my vision celestial,
may my mornings chase the light,
and my soul following the Sun,
ever upwards.
#566
Oh that skinny dance,
that sorrow shuffle,
the picking, the stares,
the sighs,
we walk the same sidewalks,
we gaze at the same skies,
our souls tethered to the same twisted rope, and yet,
there is a gulf between us, sunk between your eyes,
a chasm from the poisons you guzzle,
it’s never been fair,
yet, i worry for the lost now
more than ever,
where there once was a way back
for those that chose to destroy themselves,
that path, i fear, is unfeasible for the modern maimings,
a prayer, a wish, hold less value then they ever have,
for the drowning no longer dance with spirits,
nor lay enchanted by the spells of Eastern spices,
an inner mutilation, that walks the dead.
#567
Let it wash
Let it rain,
watch the chords pour
over a lazy day.
#568
Remember imagination?
Remember that glow from behind your eyelids?
How that light ate away at
the corners of boredom
how the figures danced
how your guardians
chased behind your racing window,
the treasures of tomorrow
and the made up horrors
that hurt your feelings,
the choice squabble,
the perfect comeback,
the tension, the tears,
of nothing, but your own thoughts.
#569
It’s that sinking feeling,
when other footprints
confuse of yours
and the path you knew,
the confidence of a way home,
slip,
when the markers you trusted
double, clutter, the stones move,
the light changes, and
the weight returns
back to your shoulders
in the bottom of your stomach,
and the only way forward
is to move onwards,
accepting that your path
has always been
where your feet lead you.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write