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Poetry Magnum Opus

In the Arms of Morpheus


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Posted

what's that I hear?

a feather bed beckoning

no need for reckoning

no bisecting

or connecting

no reflecting

 

-lies the numbness I seek

feeling no pain

for feelings bring pain

thus I disdain

love again

and again

 

-exists a single bed only

no empathy

or sympathy

no beauty

no artistry

nor even poetry

 

-I must sleep alone

in emptiness

darkness

none to bless

no one to caress

no humanness

 

-sun's light and warmth

must not invade

my couch of jade

in this voided glade

this bed I made

in which I fade ...

Posted

A grim fairy tale, this.

from the black desert

Posted

No fairy tales allowed, GK. Thanks.

Posted

But fairy tales ease the pain of reality . . .

from the black desert

Posted

I love the short, speedy lines that belie a LOT of emotion. I hope that was cathartic for you, and, as always, I hope you are well. (I leave for TX around Oct 18 - pray for me, Dear Lord, pray for me in Texas.) Keep writing, dude.

Posted

A bleak existential glimpse of a numbing reality. Nice Franklin!

 

Juris

Posted

A plain language piece that in its way reminds me of "The Conversation of Prayer" by Dylan Thomas. Sombre yet meaningful. G.

Posted

Thank you Juris and Geoff. Existential, yes, but somewhat pragmatic also. I thought while writing, something like: "Go gentle into that dark night." Why not? If I only knew the meaning of gentle. ;)

Posted

Well, I do like this! Very unlike most of what you post. I agree, more truth than fairy tale. The rhymed lines, one after the other create a sense of urgency, that caused me to read it quite rapidly, first time through, requiring additional reads. Changed my mind, I love it. Very, very nice.

 

t

Posted

Thanks for the good wishes, Marti. When you get to TX, wear snake-skin boots and drink Pearl beer and you'll be okay. Don't talk. ;)

Posted

Tam, don't know what got into me. Rhyming for god's sake! I think someone wrote a Sonata on the subject, and of course some talented rhyming poets. Anyone my age who doesn't see that eternal bunk waiting is likely already brain dead. Still, we find it hard to accept the inevitable, even those who think they have 72 virgins waiting. Now that would be hell! ;)

  • 2 weeks later...
Posted

You must have been listening to some Eminem when you penned this, Franklin. The pace of the poem seems to intensify almost to the point of aggression in the penultimate verse, mitigated by self-censure in the ultimate.

 

I always enjoy your submissions. Also very much liked: "Intellect" and "Discovery."

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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