#stoics
The loneliness of stoics
Rocks, ancient rivers
Streaming only through
Blue hills, shadowed banks
The shade that makes
All bare boys shiver
Beneath the leaves.
The lake glistens
Such golden boughs
Hanging overhead
Lanky limbs
Wrestling
Sharp elbows
Digging
Into ribs
Upon damp grass.
This was the time
Before women
Before black hair
Swung lightly over
Our shuddering shoulders
Before dark eyes
Consumed
Fiery tongues
Before we could imagine
Such soft perfumed skin
Existed
Only in dreams
Only in books
And then…our life.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
He creeps near to the foot of my bed
With that smirk
Oh he's come to cocoon me away to his army
Of dented men
With cropped souls
He asked
But never said please
To come with him
Where it's warm
I shook my head
He persuaded me
But never said please
To come with him
Where gems trickle down your face
I said no
He insisted
But never said please
To come with him
Where his home was
I refused
He forced me
But never said please
To come with him
When a comforting light pierced through my eyes
I couldn't see what it was
For it was far too beautiful
It sheered the man away
It was so modest
So against the beauty of living
Of looking, of tasting
It was a stoic;
Passionless
It was like the water
So against the grains of sand
Of dirt, of ink
It was a stoic;
Calm
It was so indifferent
So against the pull of pleasure
Of sin, of feeling
It was a stoic;
Strong
It was like god
It was god
For nothing
Would come close
To freeing the devil off the foot of my bed.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 2:21 PM UTC