Sean Pope

Sean Pope Oct 2012

Archer

With crooked cap and crooked smile
The archer nocks an arrow.
His target breathing easily -
For now, if not for long -
It stands completely unaware.

The ****** goes unnoticed.

With beating wings and tampered breath
He sights the arrow on his prey.
His wrist like granite draws the bow,
His seasoned eyes drawn to a heart.
A life beats, still unburdened,
While its rival flutters strong.

Two wills at match; with great respect
The archer takes his aim.

Now solemn, breath a distant curse -
How stones have shown more tremor! -
The moment falls, the bow held taut.

There is no going back.

Steady...

Steady...

-

The arrow finds its mark.

Sean Pope Oct 2012

Little Star

Little star,
Shine a moment more
For me.

I blinked,
And never got my wish.
*Please?

Sean Pope Oct 2012

Drone

That constant drone,
With flickering lights and humming tones,
At every corner, one more whirring transformer
And blinking LED, just to let you know.

This constant drone,
With pulsing waves that fill the bones;
With boundless range, it's hardly strange
That one might start to call it home.

What constant drone,
Those ceaseless doldrums one condones
As flitting drops and Cupid's darts
Will often guilty pleasures be.

Oh, constant drone,
That permeates this astral dome,
There is no mask for dismal facts:
That constant drone is me.

Sean Pope Oct 2012

I Saw You

I saw you walk out the door
The first day I saw you.
It was just like
What I felt in a novel.

Leaving impressions in my heart,
I saw you,
Though I almost wish I hadn't.
Nothing could ever be the way it was.

So bold, so right,
I saw everything about you seemed so sure.
I hardly knew you,
It was something unreal.

I saw you with him.

It was something unreal.
I hardly knew you.
I saw everything about you seemed so sure,
So bold, so right.

Nothing could ever be the way it was.
Though I almost wish I hadn't,
I saw you,
Leaving impressions in my heart:

What I felt in a novel.
It was just like
The first day I saw you.
I saw you walk out the door.

Sean Pope Sep 2012

Moon

I wonder if the moon seemed higher
To those who first stood on it
Or their families looking up at foreign stars.
Would they even know where to look?

An adjunct obsidian dotted with deceptive white,
So similar from afar, betraying none of their detail,
None of the subtle brilliance defining each world
As the universe that could have been.

Where here water trickles, there miasma flows,
Yet the patterns left behind are so strikingly similar
One wonders if there is a difference at all,
Where echoes of purpose mar different soil.

Is the choice more apparent on the land where we dwell,
Or from that sombre vantage so solemnly watching?
Those that have gone always wish to come back;
Would they know a new world if they found it?

Would they even know where to look?

Sean Pope Sep 2012

Twenty-One Miles

Twenty-one miles,
Eighty-eight thousand steps.

Each day those numbers look a little bigger.

Each and every day,
Nothing on my mind
But those steps, big or small.

Yet every day,
I feel I could take
One more than the last.

One foot down,
Firm or fleet,
And then the other follows,
Like athletes, performers,
Perpetually fighting
To be at their best.

Is it so hard after ten-thousand steps
To trudge one foot a little farther?

Every drop of streaming sweat
Only a reminder of how far I have gone,
How much I have gained,
How close I could be.

Twenty-one miles,
Eighty-eight thousand steps.

Seems like a lot,
Sitting here
In my comfy chair,
Alone.

Would you get up
If happiness was
Just one step away?

How about two?

Just twenty miles
Until only one remains.

Yeah, I could handle one.

So I will bleed,
I will sweat,
I will ache,
But I will not wait.

Not until I've crossed
Twenty-one miles,
Eighty-eight thousand steps.

Sean Pope Aug 2012

Uncertainty

Was ever there a plague
Quite like uncertainty?

Where yes would be preferred,
No would not prove absurd,
For the matter would be done,
While now it hangs unsung.

To toss and fret so long
Is devilishly wrong.
Such ambiguity
Can whittle sanity.

How nothing proves deadly
Quite like uncertainty.