Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Turoa Sep 2022
I knew a kind old preacher once
The least of likely places met
He never fiery sermon preached
But with me still
A seed he left

I find myself some years down the path
Lost, naught with house nor home
But not for loss of company
My bitter and sweet compatriots
Beside me, a trio, we three roam

El Sombra is a handsome gent
My closest friend, strays but never far
Darker than me in every way
A wicked humor, exquisite memory
One purest soul as black as tar

He rarely speaks but when he does
Only whispers in my ear
Things t’would make the old crone blush
The noble gallant, shudder fear

But to balance out my ***** and specter
I hold the lady on my left
Singing the ever youthful, maiden’s song
Tales of love, of joy, of sorrows past
That sweetest kiss of promise hides,
Behind Decanter’s ornate breast

How did you do it preacher,
Conquer such demons, leave them past?
Was it your wife,
Her love that kept you true,
Some friend or God that held you fast?

I’ve tasted lips of lovers sweet
All fade, but not my siren’s song
Friends endeavored to walk beside
Till shadows reach, I look about
Alas, and all by days end, gone

He casts his humors, horrors, incessant shade
She warms my laugh, soothes pain and fear
Together they ride,
My demons perched on either shoulder
Pulling a sinister grin from ear to ear

Life, stopped inside a dusty bottle
My left hand holds it like a prayer
The hapless maw of shadow waiting
Each dawn to dusk, till nightfall’s edge
Edacious poised to engulf me there

Alone I take the damning course
Scripture’s own pale horse I ride
Cruel the dry winds biting force
Till even they, my dearest friends
Shall at long last must cast me aside

Here thought fades alongside memory
Blinding malice shards desert sand
I swiftly ride into jaws of my own making
Through batwing doors, wrought iron gate
Where waits your empty shiner’s stand.
Turoa Sep 2022
I’m fine
It’s nothing
A cocked brow
A notion
Disinterested sigh
Not important
Bygone valor
Gallantry shrugged
In commonplace lie
Bravado amongst poets
Passion, satire, silent glyphs
Etched to the bone
By penman, scribe
Acting, wishing,
Holding place,
Word, sentence,
Stanza, rhyme
Tears written
Down a hardened face
Literature’s torture
Pain sublime.

He thirsted after knowledge once
Pleasures, power, did pursue
Labored for approvals eye
Quest for love
One’s solemn vow
Words his only retinue

Musical ballads
Crescendo al coda
Bittersweet Grimm’s
Tale apologue send
Turning season’s leaves
Burn fiery gold
Autumn’s soft embrace
Preceding winter
Chilling touch
Of daylight’s end
Words meanings bitten,
Hoarded, gripped in brazen gall
As if to stave off hunger
Hold back the ships
The red dogwood rain
Black cherry fall
Winter’s frost
Its ushered kiss
Loneliness your coffin
Fears entombing wall

My sonata written, cast
Of ebony hue
Guise of pride or humility
Fear whispers
A life’s merits
Matter not
Soul hidden
Unread, unsung
Pride enthroned
Your own tearstained
Lone butterfly blot.
Turoa Sep 2022
Since antiquity time
Men have borne symbols
The lion, eagle,
Dragon and stag
To encourage and give
Sacrifice meaning
While young ones
Our loved ones
Lie peacefully dreaming
For whom deaths shadow
Silent hunger ardently waits.

By torchlight, watchful
I shall ever be
Till at last fells true
Times arrow off fate
I will bear my arms
Honor held proudly
Into Hell’s maw
Its fang laden gate.

For them I give
My own life gratefully
Smiles again
I may never see
Till my banner and borne
Suffuse to one seamlessly.
For them I will stand
Against the gale
Forward to face
Their levee
The storm
I will abate.
Turoa Oct 2021
One does not scale then claim
the ancient mountain

Nor by pretension tame the sea

Sate the deep fire’s searing fountain

Noble, though futile attempts be.

Blood, sweat stained, predatory

Alone infernum, lux ignis I stand.

I fight with no hope for victory

Mine crimson staccato metronome,
life’s sweet stain on desert sand.

Dispassionate, Fire’s breadth consuming all

Whilst ever hollowing from within;

Cracked lips cachinnate the brazen gall,

Endeavoring as healers’ medicine.

Adrift till the last ember chokes,
emptied all of malice and slaughter,

Peace be that last repose, my nox aquis,
to be embraced by night upon the water.
Turoa Oct 2020
Like the horse
Has his rider,
The moon
Has it’s sky,
So a man
Has his loneliness,
Mistaken as pride.
Turoa Oct 2020
I’ve seen it 3 times in my life

Once by accident, when I was very young,

Once by choice, on a spit of land along an old road you’d never know unless you’d been there,

And now, every time I look in a mirror
Turoa Oct 2020
I’m still here

Still driving
Still pushing
Still fighting

And that’s the worst part

Yet I’m still here
And here I’ll stay
As long as it takes..

Until that that final note is played
A final sunrise that heralds
My night watches end
One more beautiful day

There’s still hope
Next page