Sunday, September 10, 2006

Poetry

I haven't written a lot lately. This isn't much, but it's a stab at it. This isn't much and I know I will rewrite this about a dozen or so times before I am happy - that's the job of a writer - to rewrite. Needless to say the muscles need to be stretched. Here's the warmup.

Mother

Mother did you miss
your true passions
Mother did you miss
a better life

You traded yourself
Early confinement..
Lifelong dedication..

Picket fences rotted
Happy marriage now empty

Bright eyes now vacant
Dreams dissolved

Can your regain yourself?
Do you know yourself?

Angry, bitter, tired, weary.
Was it worth it?
Will it matter in the end?
Was it all lost?
Is family the price you paid?

1 comment:

SNAKE HUNTERS said...

Poetry?

Coquette was she, with cunning art
Her conquests brisk & brief

Yet from the poor rose in her heart
Each lover stole a leaf

And when at last, they cease to woo
And life seemed so bereft

There came a blinded mortal who
Won all the thorns they left

Haiku:

God loves a balance
He made Angel & Devil
These two prance about

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