Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
sean-yeterian
Poems1
Followers5
Words120
Death of a Poet Bittersweet, the whispers in my head, Slugging tender punches intended to dismiss – and yet they aggravate my sensitivities. Calm, the winds that catch my sails churning waters flow beneath my bow – yet aggravate my need for comfort. I witness beauty in the stars that hang their glowing spark an effervescence in night's taut and endless hold – yet aggravate my desire to endure another day. On this Sea of Consciousness my shapeless form exists to float upon its undulations and ride the coming storm – knowing that sea's starving mouth hungers to consume a ragged soul. And knowing that this soul is mine. Now sinking deeply to bottom's waiting bed I close the final curtain of a poet's pathetic act this pretense that he existed – as a poet – at all. Birth of a Poet Renewed, light beckons my arrival spirit’s song still buried in this heart its beating throb nurtures undying lessons awareness courses through a sunken soul. Returned to water’s restless surface A vessel waits unscarred from stormy ire I paddle, sensing land’s embrace – encouraging my desires… … to aggravate my sensitivities … earn my comfort … and encourage my desire to endure another day. As this new act begins the curtain rises to reveal a soul finding ground to call his own – and knowing – that he never existed – any less – than a poet – at all.
0
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 10:29 AM UTC
sean-yeterian
Death and Birth of a Poet
Death of a Poet Bittersweet, the whispers in my head, Slugging tender punches intended to dismiss – and yet they aggravate my sensitivities. Calm, the winds that catch my sails churning waters flow beneath my bow – yet aggravate my need for comfort. I witness beauty in the stars that hang their glowing spark an effervescence in night's taut and endless hold – yet aggravate my desire to endure another day. On this Sea of Consciousness my shapeless form exists to float upon its undulations and ride the coming storm – knowing that sea's starving mouth hungers to consume a ragged soul. And knowing that this soul is mine. Now sinking deeply to bottom's waiting bed I close the final curtain of a poet's pathetic act this pretense that he existed – as a poet – at all. Birth of a Poet Renewed, light beckons my arrival spirit’s song still buried in this heart its beating throb nurtures undying lessons awareness courses through a sunken soul. Returned to water’s restless surface A vessel waits unscarred from stormy ire I paddle, sensing land’s embrace – encouraging my desires… … to aggravate my sensitivities … earn my comfort … and encourage my desire to endure another day. As this new act begins the curtain rises to reveal a soul finding ground to call his own – and knowing – that he never existed – any less – than a poet – at all.
Continue reading...
40