Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
B-J-M Nov 2019
there is beauty
beneath;
i know
i have seen it
i have felt the joy
and
the peace

but
in my anger
it is crushed
it turns to sand
and falls
from
          my
                 clenched
                                  fist

i couldn’t stop myself
B-J-M Jun 2018
entirely at fault
the Ubermensch
within
will still find
a means
of spreading the blame
beyond
the limits of responsibility

even these words
pass the blame
onto something
that can be claimed
as being
beyond my control

so is it even
really
my fault
at all?
B-J-M Jun 2018
though i float in time
i cannot get where i want
there may be comfort
found
in the past
but
to remain there would be
too great
a sacrifice;
this is
a much better place
though it cracks
and flakes

now that you mention it
the bright mornings
of yesterday
were just as clouded
anyway
maybe more so

dwelling on our struggles
we must not forget
the joys of
today
B-J-M Jun 2018
they say that
the centre will hold;
it's a pity
i'm not
centred
at all
B-J-M Jun 2018
in this moment
while the sun enriches
i sit back
with my feet on the table
the great american novel
in my hand
pages whispering
as they turn

eventually
understanding their message
i close the book
lay it aside
turn my face
to the sun
and listen;
birds drift
and chirp
a breeze soothes
all that is crosses
the moutains remain
unchanged
since well before my time

surrounded
like this
there is nothing to do
but marvel

with time to just sit
and be;
there is nothing better
This is a work in progress, I think. I'm not 100% that I'm happy with the rhythm
B-J-M Jun 2018
a crow
struggling
against something unseen
tries to fly
only to be forced
backwards
further from its goal
with every attempt

it will never realise
it was better off
beforehand
there is no regret
it will simply
keep trying
again
and again
until it succeeds

never thought
i'd be jealous
of
a crow
B-J-M Jun 2018
this rope
should not be pulled
from opposite ends
in opposite directions

what once was straight
is now
a tangled knot;
no direction
can be discerned

my white-knuckled grip
must be relaxed
if
this mess
is to be
made straight
Next page