#340
Another inkling,
an inviting smile,
a phrase, a spark,
a light at the end of
a dark tunnel.
Perhaps another dead
end, but whats the joy
of wandering through
the labyrinth if you
don’t let yourself
get a little lost?
#341
There’s only a handful left,
hanging from the branches
fighting the same bitter breeze
i combat with each morning step,
they don’t drop everyday, but their
end is ever near, and while the evergreens
still sing, their song whittles where
it used to whistle, whispers where
it used to wallop, the season changes
time passes, we march through winter,
and i try to embrace what seconds i can.
#342
Theres mornings where i wake up
with an unsettling hangover from my
dreams, it hangs over me, coating
my lower back in anxiety and unease,
i don’t quite know what to make of it,
a feeling that i’ve forgotten something
important, like my wallet, or keys,
i’m constantly reaching for my pockets
searching for a reassurance that doesn’t
come. What lessons have been lost? What
warnings have gone unheard? Or is it just
what lingers from my subconscious’s grip.
#343
And all that, that left hook,
a kiss on the kisser
a blindside, right here, right now,
a sharp turn, downward,
eyes sky high
i
don’t know why,
don’t know how,
but i do know
i
will start all over
move on up,
get on down,
find my spin, stand on out
be right, leave none, not mine,
kiss the night,
and speak em speechless.
it’ll be alright.
#344
Silence never brings
the answers that we want,
oh we wrap ourselves
in assurances that no news
is good news, but the blanket
is as thin as the tatters of hope.
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