#640
How dare i let loose to the storm,
slip, stoop, or cower,
how could i let myself forget myself,
a crime worse than those bestowed
Out from the caverns and caves,
i sit in the sunshine smiling
ecstatic to be right here, held up ever again,
finding joy in the midst of inconvenience.
#641
Sometimes the rain i wake to
is all my pen will write about,
the endless cold pouring,
the sop, the damp, the chill,
blinding gales that push the weight
against my efforts,
i love the patter on my roof,
and patterns down my windows,
but as much as i pretend i like
the feeling of the droplets,
i still struggle, still stand staring,
praying for a little break.
#642
Calm,
feels as distance
and inconceivable
as the myths, the moon…
Gift,
a pause, a break, a hard rest,
a passage of poetry
that might lift my sinking heart.
Charity,
oh dazzle me, serenity,
bring breath, halt the heavy hand,
and bring me a little clarity.
Welcome,
the warmth of your gaze
the comfort of your call,
the ease of your weight.
#643
It took me ten minutes
to find this bastarding pen,
my notebooks are gone,
i’m out of tune, off rhythm
and when i give up, and
bury my head beneath my sheets
the radio loses reception,
my headphones have disappeared,
and the copy of the book i want
to read is missing it’s first chapter,
my positivity is sinking faster than i am,
#644
May those chords wash over me
may they rinse away the weather,
scrub sand from between my bones,
oh may a melody hypnotize my mood
and send it waltzing westward
past the horizon to drown itself
in whichever body of water finds it first,
oh let the lyrics lug my gloom,
lull my worried little head,
and compose me back together again.
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